


half agony/half hope

by hewhomustnotbejames



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, a multitude of flashbacks, a non explicit attempt at sexual assault, angst but with a happy ending of course, nothing too bad, okay we've got, sexual content that may be explicit so maybe i'm rating this incorrectly idk, some minor panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 12:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16063616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hewhomustnotbejames/pseuds/hewhomustnotbejames
Summary: a modern persuasion auaka: and they were exes, oh my god they were exes





	half agony/half hope

**Author's Note:**

> this story was written when i was on a writers retreat in a cabin the woods with no internet or anything. it was a time & i wish i was back there right now. but what you see here is due in large part to my best friend sarah & her constant support & talking me through mental breakdowns & panic attacks & the like. so thanks ily (& thanks for letting me borrow your oc's whom i love & adore)

The thing is, Adam loves Blue.

 

She’s his best friend, practically his sister—he supposes she actually kind of is his step-sister, if only legally. It’s just—when she gets an idea in her head she won’t let it go for anything. Not even when someone rationally points out the idea’s failings—nope, she just ignores logic and steamrolls on with it as planned. It’s something Adam loves about her, except when it’s directed at him. 

 

“Just one date!”

 

“Blue, I swear to god.”

 

“Fine, nothing so formal. We could do a group hang-out where we’re all there to support you.”

 

“No. I hate set-ups, you know this.”

 

Blue sighs distastefully. “When was the last time you even went on a date?” 

 

Adam fights back a grimace. _Low blow._

 

He doesn’t deign to answer, but the rest of their friends chime in with clever quips of their own. He doesn’t know why his romantic failings are so important to them all of a sudden.

 

“Blue at Orla’s wedding,” Noah jokes with a smile. 

 

“When LBJ was president,” Sebastian adds. Adam just sighs into his beer. 

 

“Oh! Senior Prom, with yours truly,” Tad declares proudly. He’s three sheets to the wind at this point, telling Sebastian ‘dealer’s choice’ when he went to order for him, so Adam can’t be actively mad at him for letting that slip out, but he can be passively annoyed, so he is. 

 

Sebastian actually spits out a mouthful of his Long Island Iced Tea onto the table in front of them, some of it splashing onto the sleeve of Adam’s sweater. 

 

“Jesus,” Adam says, grabbing a napkin to wipe at it. 

 

Sebastian doesn’t even notice. “You went to _Prom_ together?” He screeches it loud enough that people can hear him over the music of the bar and Adam tries not to notice the various side-eyes they’re getting. 

 

“Shut up,” Adam sighs good-naturedly, but steers the conversation gently in another direction. “Blue, when was the last time _you_ had a date?”

 

Blue scoffs, undeterred. “I’ve been on dates! At least I _have_ a tinder. Your refusal to partake in dating apps means you have to agree to let your friends find people for you instead.” 

 

“I know you mean well, but—I don’t like dating, and if I meet someone, I want it to happen organically, not carefully orchestrated by my friends so you can hide in the bushes and spy on us.”

 

Noah gives him a small smile. “We wouldn’t spy on you in the bushes.”

 

Blue shrugs. “Speak for yourself. But I know, I know, I’ll leave it alone. At least for another month or so.”

 

Adam just smiles and shakes his head at her. He looks over at Tad who’s already passing out on his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

 

Sebastian stares at Adam with a serious expression. “Can we _please_ revisit the Prom situation? Did you wear matching tuxes? Are there _pictures?_ ”

 

***

 

“So you’re coming tonight, right?” Peter asks, taking a bite of his salad. They’re on their lunch break, which at Adam’s clinic, occurs whenever there’s a long enough lull. Today, the lull happens at 1:30 when there aren’t any appointments until 2:15. 

 

“What’s tonight?” he asks, looking up from his phone. He’s in the middle of reading a think-piece on why microwaving your food is basically drinking radiation; he doesn’t actually believe it, but looking down at his bowl of microwaved pasta, he could use the distraction. 

 

Blue swats at him, not looking up from her rapid-fire texting. “Duh—Peter’s new boyfriend’s party? We promised we’d go to support him.”

 

Adam turns back to Peter who’s looking at him expectantly. "Oh. Mixed up my days. That’s tonight?”

 

Peter gives him a discerning look, as if he knows Adam’s about to try to let him down gently. “You’re coming, you promised. I need you to meet him so I can substantiate the fact that I have cool friends. Plus, Donovan and Whitt are both working.”

 

Adam smiles and reaches out his hand to squeeze Peter’s shoulder in reassurance. “We’ll be there, don’t worry.”

 

“And we’ll be super cool,” Blue adds, still staring down at her phone. 

 

“Yeah,” Adam says with a laugh, “we’ll be on our coolest behavior.”

 

“Thank you,” Peter sighs. “Plus, as an added incentive, I know for a fact that there’s going to be a lot of hot people there. Matthew is always surrounded by hot people, it’s a phenomenon. Maybe you’ll both meet someone.”

 

That gets Blue to finally look up from her texting conversation, and she glances over at Adam with a look that’s equal parts smug and challenging. 

 

***

 

When their Uber pulls up to the charcoal craftsman-style house, Adam’s not sure what to expect. For all he knows, it could be a rager or a quiet gathering of six people, and he doesn’t know what he’d prefer right now. He doesn’t know much about Peter’s boyfriend other than his name, Matthew, and a bunch of cute nonsense Peter’s gushed about to him and Blue. 

 

The bumping sound of muffled music bleeds through the door as they approach. Since Whitt and Donovan will both be absent, he’s fully aware that the only people he’s going to know are Blue and Peter, but as soon as they knock on the door and it opens, he’s proved wrong as he’s greeted by a friendly face. 

 

“Oh my god! Adam? Blue?” 

 

“Lizzie?” he and Blue exclaim at the same time in what is a very _Sister, Sister_ moment. 

 

“You know Peter’s boyfriend?” Blue asks her. 

 

She leans in to wrap her arms around both of them, squeezing them together. “Oh yeah, Matthew and I go way back. He’s the sweetest, you’ve got to come meet him!”

 

“Is your brother here?” 

 

“Nope, it’s date night for Tadbastian. Besides, he doesn’t even know anyone here,” she tells them, ushering them inside. 

 

It turns out not to be a rager or a quiet party, it’s somewhere in the middle, with people hanging out on couches in the living room to their right, and others playing beer pong in the dining room to their left. Lizzie pulls them into the dining room, where they catch a glimpse Peter. 

 

“I’m off to find another drink. My last one was atrocious,” Lizzie tells them, and she disappears so quickly Adam’s not convinced she didn’t just evaporate on the spot. 

 

“You made it!” Peter says when he spots them. “Let me grab Matthew so you can meet him.” 

 

When he comes back, he’s pulling someone behind him by the hand. “Here he is, the birthday boy,” Peter says brightly, and Adam’s heart momentarily stops as he’s greeted with the sight of Matthew Lynch. 

 

“Oh my god,” Blue mutters under her breath, hopefully only audible to Adam’s ears.

 

“Adam Parrish?” Matthew sounds shocked. Adam’s shoulders tense involuntarily, like some kind of leftover reflex from a past life he barely remembers. 

 

“Matthew, wow. Happy birthday!” He cringes internally at the crazy lilt of his voice as he attempts to sound unfazed. 

 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Matthew says, not unkindly. “It’s been forever.”

 

Seven years. 

 

It’s been seven years. 

 

“Yeah, it’s great to see you,” Adam tells him and is surprised when Matthew pulls him into a hug. He’s not sure he’s ever hugged Matthew, but it’s nice, that he apparently doesn’t hate Adam, at least. 

 

Peter’s looking between the two of them in confusion. “You two know each other?”

 

Adam shrugs but Matthew fills him in. “He dated my brother a long time ago.”

 

Peter’s eyes widen comically. “Declan or Ronan?” And, God, just hearing his name. Adam bites his lip and tries to slow down his heart-rate. 

 

“Ronan, of course,” Matthew tells him. “Declan’s straight.”

 

Adam turns and he and Blue have a silent conversation through their eye contact that goes something like this: 

 

_‘What the fuck?’_

 

_‘I know!’_

 

_‘Do you want to leave?’_

 

_‘Can you please stab me with that pool cue I spot in the corner?’_

 

Then Matthew says the most obvious thing, and Adam can’t believe he didn’t consider it sooner. “Ronan’s going to be _so surprised_ when he sees you.”

 

Ronan. 

 

Ronan is here. 

 

Of course he’s here. 

 

It’s his little brother’s birthday party, why wouldn’t he be here? He loves Matthew more than anything. He probably flew all the way from Ireland just to be here. 

 

Adam thinks he manages to keep his face neutral, but his voice cracks a little when he says, “Oh, he’s here?”

 

So much for sounding casual. 

 

Blue reaches out and squeezes his hand. 

 

“Yeah, do you want me to find him for you?” Matthew asks, pleasantly. Adam has never been more thankful for Blue than in this moment, because she answers for him and says, “Actually, we were just on our way to locate the alcohol. But, happy birthday! So nice to meet you. Peter, we’ll catch up in a little bit!” Then she’s grabbing Adam’s arm and pulling him away and into a quiet corner. 

 

“Okay, on a scale from one to ten, how badly are you panicking right now?” 

 

Adam stares at her in shock.

 

“Okay, that’d be a ten. Should we go? We can totally go. Peter introduced us, we acted very cool, we’ve fulfilled our mandatory duty.” 

 

Adam shakes his head and he knows that’s not a sufficient answer, but his brain’s cognition is malfunctioning. His pulse is racing and he feels like he might pass out, so he takes a few deep breaths and slowly forces himself to calm down. Blue waits patiently before he speaks. 

 

“It’s fine, I’m okay,” he says. “We don’t have to leave.”

 

Blue eyes him skeptically. “Really? Because I’m happy to go now.”

 

He shakes his head again. “Maybe it’d be good,” he pauses, trying to convince himself, “to catch up.”

 

Her face softens. “Just tell me if you want to go at any point.”

 

He nods. “I’m gonna go see if I can find us drinks.” He thinks facing Ronan alone would be less daunting somehow, and she seems to understand. 

 

“I guess I’ll go track down Lizzie,” she says, leaving Adam to his own devices. 

 

Adam’s adrenaline addled brain is on high alert as he walks through to the living room. He scans the room as subtly as he can, but doesn’t see anyone he knows, and certainly not Ronan, so he keeps moving until he finds the kitchen. Getting a drink will give him something to do, something to occupy his hands, and maybe the alcohol will even take the edge off. 

 

He hears his voice before he sees him. It hasn’t changed much, maybe gotten a bit deeper. When Adam rounds the corner, there he is, leaning against the kitchen counter, close to another guy, and they’re talking about beer. 

 

“I swear to god if you drink that shit in front of me I’ll never forgive you,” he’s telling the guy, who responds to Ronan, with a quirk of his lips, “Well, we can’t have that.”

 

Adam feels his stomach drop. He wasn’t prepared for this—for Ronan flirting with someone in front of him. Which—it’s ridiculous. It’s been seven years, and Adam’s the one who fucked everything up between them in the first place. For all he knows, Ronan could be married with two kids at this point. But his body doesn’t seem to understand that logic, as the hurt he feels rush through him is achingly physical. 

 

He’s not sure what to do so he stands there, waiting for Ronan to notice him or better yet, for the ceiling to cave in so he doesn’t have to deal with this. He’s saved by Lizzie, who floats into the room with an air of confidence and determination, putting an arm around Adam. 

 

“Oh my god, you need to meet Matthew’s middlest brother!” she tells him, which makes Ronan turn abruptly toward them. Adam sees the moment the recognition dawns on him, his relaxed posture suddenly stiffening, eyes going wide, mouth dropping slightly before he schools his features into a blank expression. 

 

“Adam, this is Ronan: The Brother. Ronan, Adam: The Coolest Guy You’ll Ever Meet.” Lizzie, her work done, moves over to mix herself a new drink. 

 

“We’ve met,” Ronan says, and Lizzie swings back around. 

 

“Oh, really?”

 

“Yeah,” Adam says, smiling softly. “It’s good to see you, Ronan.”

 

Ronan turns to gesture at the guy standing next to him. “This is Henry. Henry, Adam.” 

 

Henry smiles brightly at him, hopefully not sensing the weirdness or tension, and offers Adam a hand to shake. 

 

“So,” Adam says, plastering on his fakest smile, in hopes fake nonchalance will lend itself to the real thing. “What’s good to drink around here?”

 

Ronan’s still staring at him, but he takes that opportunity to turn away. “Beers in the fridge, mixers on the counter. You’re welcome to whatever you want.” His voice is agonizingly polite, and Adam _hates_ it, because there’s no warmth in his words. He’s obviously as thrown off by Adam’s presence as Adam is by his, but he clearly doesn’t _want_ to see him, so Adam grabs two beers from the fridge and mutters a “thanks” before leaving them in the kitchen. He feels such an intense, overwhelming feeling of rejection that stings so horribly, which is so unfair of Adam, it makes him hate himself a little. 

 

He finds Blue in the living room arguing with some guy. Typical. 

 

“Now you’re just making things up!” she’s yelling, as she tends to do with the guys she gets in fights with at parties. 

 

“Maybe you just don’t know Star Wars as well as you thought you did,” the guy’s voice, in striking contrast, is as calm as the sea after a storm. Adam knows, of course, this is what infuriates Blue more than anything in an argument and wonders if this guy has figured this out for himself in record time. 

 

They stare each other down, and Blue’s hands are actually on her hips, which makes Adam laugh. The guy is probably over a foot taller than her and he’s looking down at her with an amused expression. Yeah, Adam’s pretty sure Blue met her match. 

 

Neither of them showing any signs of backing down any time soon, Adam walks up and hands her a beer, which she takes without breaking her steely unblinking gaze on her long-limbed adversary.

 

“What’re we fighting about?” he asks, he needs a distraction badly, and this situation might give him a sense of normalcy. He takes a long sip of his beer, looking pointedly between Blue and the guy. 

 

“Your girlfriend’s mad because she didn’t know there were words on Vader’s chest plate. She’s the one who challenged me to a debate, it’s not my fault she’s wrong,” he says, not taking his eyes off Blue. 

 

“Not my girlfriend,” Adam says, amused. “But you’re right.”

 

Blue finally breaks her uncomfortably tense eye contact with this guy to send Adam a look of pure betrayal. “Um, no he’s not! Et Tu?”

 

Adam shrugs. "It’s ancient hebrew, right?” 

 

The guy nods. “His deeds will not be forgiven, until he merits,” he quotes.

 

A little too ironic for Adam right now.

 

“I’m Adam, her roommate slash kind of step brother,” he says. He loves getting to play reverse wing man for Blue. He’s pretty sure this guy is already significantly endeared to her stubborn and abrasive nature, so Adam doesn’t really need to try to make her look good. 

 

“Joseph. And how do you two know the birthday boy?”

 

“Our receptionist’s boyfriend,” Blue says right as Adam says, “Dated his brother.”

 

Joseph’s eyes widen and he smirks in a way that makes Adam nervous. “ _You’re_ Ronan’s ex?” He sounds delighted.

 

“Yep,” Adam nods, popping the ‘p’ in such an awkward way he’ll be up all night reliving this precise moment.

 

Now it’s Adam’s turn to be rattled by his irritatingly unreadable tone of voice. “Interesting.”

 

That seems reason enough to start chugging his beer. 

 

They make it about twenty more minutes talking before Adam sees Ronan in his peripheral moving his way into the room with Henry, and Adam’s feeling cowardly, so he tells Blue he’s going to get some air and heads out to the front door to sit on the porch. 

 

That’s when the worst comes. Well, maybe not the worst—seeing Ronan was pretty awful. Adam had imagined how that would go over the years, how they would talk, and Adam would apologize, and Ronan would forgive him. Reality had certainly proved him an idiot. But yeah, Adam forgot about the _other_ Lynch brother. 

 

Declan finds him there about a minute after he sits down.

 

“What the fuck,” he says, and Adam winces, “are you doing here?”

 

“I was invited by Peter,” he tries to explain, “I didn’t realize Matthew was _Matthew_.”It sounds stupid even to his own ears. 

 

Declan stares at him hard, and it’s the same look he gave Adam the last time they saw each other. He deserved it then, but it’s been over six years, so he’s not sure he deserves the same level of hostility now, but maybe hurting his brother requires lifelong punishment in Delcan Lynch’s eyes. Adam wouldn’t be surprised. 

 

“Look, I’m not here to fuck with him or anything, I promise. I didn’t know.”

 

Declan surveys him and then nods. “Fine,” he says, then disappears into the house. 

 

Adam’s pretty sure that’s the extent of Lynch interactions he can take in one night, so he pulls out his phone and texts Blue. 

 

_hey i’m really tired so i’m gonna call an uber. don’t worry you can stay. text me when/if you’re coming home so ik you’re safe. love you_

 

**i’ll come with u. i don’t want u to be alone**

 

_no really, i’m tired. breakfast tomorrow_

 

**okay. love you too**

**and i’m obv coming home tonight btw**

 

Adam laughs. 

 

_we’ll see ;)_

 

He feels lucky that no one comes outside while he’s waiting on the porch for his Uber. As soon as he gets into the car he feels simultaneously better and worse. He sighs in relief, but now left alone with no company but his own racing thoughts, the anxiety creeps in as he recalls every moment of horribly painful interaction. 

 

***

 

A Memory: 

 

It’s his first time back in Henrietta since before the break-up, and he’s nervous. He’s planning to be there for all of summer break now that Dean has settled in and got himself a girlfriend. He knows he’s going to run into Ronan, it’s inevitable, so he decides to do the brave thing and drive over to his house. 

 

It’s Declan who answers the door. 

 

He looks cold and angry. “What do you want.”

 

“Is Ronan around?”

 

Declan stares him down for a moment then shakes his head. “No, and he’s not coming back, so don’t bother.”

 

Adam’s in a daze as he drives back into town. He doesn’t really believe Declan that Ronan suddenly joined the Navy and shipped off because, first of all, Ronan would never join the Navy, unless this is an invasion of the bodysnatchers situation. He doesn’t know what to do or think so he tracks down the only other person who would know.

 

Gansey’s a little more welcoming than Declan. 

 

“Hey, Adam,” he says. 

 

“Hey. I’m sorry to bother you. It’s just—I know it’s none of my business, but I went to go see Ronan and Declan said he’s gone.” Gansey nods. Adam continues slowly, “That he joined the Navy and shipped out.” 

 

Gansey scoffs. “Yeah, he would say that, but no. Ronan wasn’t suddenly overcome by patriotic duty to fight for his country. He, uh—he actually moved to Ireland.”

 

Adam stares at him. “Is this another ploy to throw me off so I stay away from him?”

 

Gansey shakes his head. “No, it’s the truth.” He pulls out his phone and scrolls for awhile until he finds a picture. Adam feels his heart break all over again as he takes in the image. It’s Ronan, of course, in front of an Irish pub with a pint of beer in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. 

 

“Okay,” he says, tearing himself away from the picture. “I guess—thanks for telling me the truth. I’ll see you around.” He starts down the steps until Gansey calls after him. 

 

“Adam, wait.”

 

He turns around. 

 

“I don’t have a problem with you or anything, but,” he sighs. “If you’re not going to take him back can you just—leave him be? He’s trying to move on.”

 

Adam feels his throat tighten and he can sense the onslaught of tears coming—he needs to get out of here. He nods to Gansey and then hurries to his car. He cries all the way home, then sits in his car for a long time, composing himself before he heads inside. 

 

***

 

The day after the party, he and Blue head to the Jam to get breakfast. It’s crowded so they have to wait in line outside for about half an hour before they can get a seat, but it’s plenty of time for Blue to fill him in on everything that happened after he left. Apparently, according to Joseph, who is Blue’s new rival/crush/nemesis, Ronan wasn’t visiting from Ireland. He’s been living in Portland for a few months as he and Joseph established their business, of which Blue can’t remember. It’s not a lot of information, but it’s enough to make Adam’s brain spin out of control, thinking of all the possibilities that living in the same city could mean. Mostly he realizes that every time he leaves his apartment to go to the grocery store, he’s going to be on high alert, wondering if he’s going to run into his ex. It’s like being in Henrietta all over again. 

 

***

 

It’s one of those days where everything seems destined to go wrong. Like Adam committed some misdeed worthy of a blood feud, and the Fates are after him. He guesses that’s true, in a way. 

 

The day begins when one of Adam’s regulars has a morning appointment, and he finds a cancerous tumor in the cat. She’s only four years old, so it’s awful. Then, because Peter has a class for his MFA on Thursdays, it’s only Blue and Adam in the clinic, and they end up getting swamped with so many walk-ins, Adam’s not able to take a break until 4:30. Then, to top it all off, right before closing, while Adam is literally counting the minutes before they can lock up, a little girl and her mother rush in with their dog and he’s bleeding out—hit and run—and Adam does everything he can, but—he doesn’t make it. 

 

He tries to remove himself emotionally from his patients, and he’s usually successful, but on a day like today, especially when he sees that little girl’s face when she finds out she lost her dog, it’s just _hard_. He can’t seem to get that look on her face out of his head—face red, cheeks streaked with still-flowing tears, and her eyes, full of an overwhelming hopelessness—it’s just burned into his brain, along with his mind on repeat telling him _you failed her, you’re a fucking failure, you fucked up_ over and over and over. 

 

He’s slumped on the floor in the operating room; his hands are shaking, there’s still streaks of blood staining the floor, and he can’t tear his eyes away from it. Blue finds him there when she’s closed up, what feels like hours later, and she sits down next to him. 

 

“Oh, Adam,” she says, in that soft voice that she rarely uses with him. “I’m so sorry.” She reaches up and wipes her hand on his face—at _tears_ , he realizes, he’s _crying_. 

 

“I messed up,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “I should have tried harder—I should have—” he cuts himself off because he doesn’t really know what he’s saying, or what the point is, but Blue wraps an arm around him and pushes his head onto her shoulder. 

 

“You didn’t mess up. You did everything you could. Come on, we’re going to the bar and I’m buying you all the drinks,” she tells him. 

 

Adam washes his face with cold water in the sink, keeping his gaze down at the running water and away from the mirror in front of him. He doesn’t want to know what his reflection shows right now. When he leaves the bathroom, Blue’s cleaned up and changed her outfit and added heavy eyeliner.

 

They get an Uber to the bar, since Adam plans on drinking heavily and Blue doesn’t drive. As soon as they walk through the door, Adam feels anxiety creep in, in that way that there’s a harsh tightness under his sternum. There are too many people, and he’s not used to seeing a crowd this big, and he’s not ready to socialize, not until he’s had a drink or two, so as soon as he spots Noah and hears Sebastian’s loud laugh, he tells Blue he’s going to get a drink. 

 

“Let me come with you! I told you, all the drinks. On me.”

 

“No, it’s okay, you can get the next one. I just—”

 

She nods, understanding in that uncanny way of hers, and squeezes his hand before traipsing off toward their regular spot, while Adam heads straight for the bar. Whitt’s working tonight, and Adam finds a stool at the left end of the bar and settles himself there, elbows on the bar and chin in his hands. Whitt’s busy, but after a few minutes he dramatically slides over to Adam like he’s about to start dancing. 

 

“Why aren’t you crushing everyone in trivia right now?” he asks Adam, dropping a coaster on the bar-top in front of him. 

 

“Oh, that’s why there’s so many fucking people here,” Adam remarks. There must be something in his tone because Whitt’s sunny expression drops a little. 

 

“You alright?” 

 

Adam shrugs. “I’ll be better when you do your job and get me drunk.” 

 

That gets Whitt to laugh, and he pulls out a clean pint glass. “Just for that, I’m picking your poison.”

 

Adam smiles a little. “Plus a double shot.”

 

Whitt raises a brow and Adam watches him pour him a beer from the tap and then he grabs a bottle of vodka and pours a copious amount into a glass. “You deserve a triple,” Whitt tells him, and it’s nothing out of the ordinary or significant—Whitt is a sweetheart and Adam loves him— but for some weird reason, Adam feels like he’s going to cry all of a sudden. He really needs to get his emotions together—it’s like ever since he saw Ronan, they’re spinning out of control, and Adam can’t tell whether he’s about to laugh or cry at any given moment.

 

He downs the vodka and welcomes the burn, chasing it with a sip of the beer Whitt gave him. 

 

“Holy shit,” he says. “What is this?”

 

Whitt gives him a weird look that Adam’s not capable of deciphering at the moment. “It’s a Huckleberry Sour,” he tells Adam slowly. “Cabeswater Brewing Co.”

 

Adam just shrugs. “It’s really good.”

 

Whitt chuckles and then heads down the bar to serve the other patrons. 

 

Adam’s on his second Huckleberry Sour when Whitt rushes over to him and mutters under his breath, “Heads up. Your ex,” then he turns his bright smile on a girl asking for a cider. 

 

Adam tenses up instantly and he concentrates hard on keeping his eyes fixed on his glass, watching the condensation drip down the sides. His heart-rate picks up and it’s so stupid, the background noise of voices chatting and music playing drifts away and all of Adam’s senses hone in on one thing: the body that moves into his peripheral, all that tall, dark, and handsomeness, it’s a lot. 

 

The area around the bar is crowded, so he’s close to Adam, probably closer than he wants to be, if he even notices him—close enough that Adam thinks he can actually feel his body heat, can smell him, and it triggers something deep in him when he realizes Ronan still wears the same cologne he did seven years ago. Adam picks up his glass with a slight tremble to his hand and swallows a mouthful of the violet-colored liquid, letting the feeling of the alcohol wash over him. Trying to breathe slowly and steadily through his panic. 

 

He doesn’t think Ronan even realizes he’s there, until he says, low and rough, “You like it?”

 

Adam feels his heart clench. Hearing Ronan’s voice is a lot to deal with, especially when he’s already tipsy and emotional. But, he’s not sure what he’s being asked about, so he looks up at Ronan, and asks, softly, “What?”

 

Ronan moves to sit down, taking care to leave one stool in between them. It makes Adam feel sad and hollow in a way he really didn’t want to tonight. Maybe he should just leave. 

 

“The beer, do you like it?” Ronan asks, gesturing with a nod of his head to the glass in front of Adam. He has a blank expression on his face, and Adam hates it, because it just reminds him that once upon a time he could read Ronan’s emotions easier than his own, and now—nothing. 

 

“Yeah,” Adam tells him, trying to snap out of his internal breakdown. “It’s great, you should try it.” 

 

Ronan looks at him blankly and nods once, then turns away from him. Adam uses the opening to take inventory, cataloguing the differences between this Ronan and the Ronan of seven years ago, since he was too flustered to pay close enough attention the other night—he’s certainly changed. His hair, for one. Adam has vivid memories of running the pads of his fingers over his buzzcut while Ronan sucked bruises into his neck. The beard too, that’s new. Eighteen year old Ronan didn’t have any facial hair, and Adam blames the alcohol for the sudden onslaught of images of that beard scratching up against him, and—wow, he _really_ needs to stop. 

 

Ronan still has the same overall aesthetic that he always did, though—tight, dark jeans, white t-shirt, grey zip-up hoodie, with a black jean jacket over it. He’s also broader, not bulky, but just in a way that Adam thinks if he took off his outer layers, the muscle definition would be…nice. He’s hot, and Adam’s definitely been staring at him, and he only snaps out of it when Whitt drops a pint of the same Huckleberry sour in front of Ronan. Whitt winks at Adam, and Adam’s grateful, because his face grounds him and he slowly begins to snap out of his daze. 

 

He and Ronan sit, not together, but not apart, drinking their beers in silence while Adam tries to think of something say, but his mind is filling with memories that had been stored away on a hard drive that Adam plugged in and downloaded for the first time in almost a decade. 

 

He’s startled out of his reverie by a body bumping into him and sidling into Adam, putting an arm around him. Blue kisses him on the cheek and he see’s that she’s not alone. The guy from the party, Joseph something or other, he thinks. Suddenly the eyeliner makes sense. He knocks into Ronan in way that seems practiced and ordinary, like the two of them have a sort of camaraderie that’s been built over years of friendship. 

 

“Lynch, tell me you’re not coercing people into trying your weird beer,” he says, tone laced with long suffering mirth. 

 

Adam looks over and Ronan rolls his eyes. “It’s _our_ weird beer, Joseph. You’re not a hapless bystander in this partnership.” 

 

Joseph moves to lean into Adam as if telling him a secret, but his voice is loud and carries when he speaks. “He’s just bitter because I’ve never tasted it, but like I told him, beer is gross and I have no interest in putting gross things in my mouth. I’m happy to sell it, but that doesn’t mean I have to _drink_ the damn stuff.”

 

It takes Adam a moment to connect the dots. 

 

“I drove all the way to Idaho and climbed a fucking mountain to pick the huckleberries that went into this batch and he won’t even taste it,” he tells Adam and Blue, exasperated. 

 

Adam’s momentarily stunned, before he’s hit with a sudden rush of nostalgia. “This is your beer? You made this?” His voice is too loud and startled to his own ears and he tries not to wince. 

 

Ronan meets his eyes and he just shrugs. 

 

***

 

A memory: 

 

He’s walking around the farmer’s market aimlessly, picking up random fruits and vegetables. Adam doesn’t know how to cook, but he needs to do _something_ to pass the time, and he figures if he buys enough food, he’ll have enough for a recipe—he can follow a recipe. It can’t be _that_ hard. 

 

When he sees him, Adam actually does a double take. Everyone in this town so far fits a specific look, especially the people running the farmer’s market stalls. But this guy—he’s different. He has a harsh look about him, like he’s challenging people to a duel when they step up to his booth to buy his products. He’s wearing a black tank top that’s sliced down the sides, so Adam can see the skin of his ribs, and a flash of his stomach when it billows in the wind. His head is shaved, and he’s handsome, with sharp lines to his face, and his blue eyes are so intense Adam finds himself walking forward against his will.

 

He’s haggling with an elderly lady when Adam approaches the booth. 

 

“Do you know how hard it is to get huckleberries on the east coast? They’re worth at least twelve dollars a basket and I’m giving you a deal at eight, so if that’s too high for you then I suggest you climb a mountain and pick them yourself,” the guy says, tone cutting and expression harsh, and Adam is _flummoxed_. 

 

The lady just looks at him and Adam watches an intense stare-down between the two of them before she sighs, relenting, dropping a five and three ones down on the table with a glare and grabbing the basket of berries. 

 

The guy grabs the cash and slides it into a box, looking smug and satisfied. 

 

“Jesus, couldn’t you give the lady a deal? She’s like, ninety,” Adam says, words leaving his mouth before he knows what he’s doing. The boy looks up at him, eyebrows raised and gives him a slow once over, making Adam flush against his will. 

 

“Mrs. Henderson is seventy-eight and she’s a notorious con artist,” he says, amused. He smirks and Adam feels his heart beat pick up. “What’s it to you?”

 

“Nothing, you just seemed a bit harsh,” he says, and he really doesn’t know why he’s even having this conversation. “I’ll take some blueberries.” 

 

The guy looks at him, his mouth falling open a little as if Adam just told him to strip down naked and jump into a fire. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, appalled.

 

Adam doesn’t know what’s happening. “Um, no?”

 

“Are you doing this out of spite?” 

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“You can’t seriously ask for some shitty blueberries when you know I have buckets full of huckleberries—that’s just—Mrs. Henderson’s an asshole, don’t let her appearance fool you.”

 

Adam laughs. “Honestly, I just want some blueberries…”

 

“That’s offensive. Get the huckleberries.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because! They’re fucking superior in every way?”

 

Adam stares at him. 

 

“Have you ever had a huckleberry?” the guy asks him. 

 

“No, but I’m pretty sure they’re just the hipster version of blueberries,” Adam says, voice as bitchy as he can make it. This is the most entertained he’s been since coming to Henrietta, so he can’t be blamed for purposefully provoking a stranger.

 

It has the desired effect—the guy in front of him balks and glares at Adam. “You know what, no. I can’t stand for this,” he says, dramatically, and he pulls out a small handful of blueberries and holds them out. Adam takes them automatically. “Eat,” he orders. Adam pops them into his mouth and tastes them. 

 

They’re blueberries, he knows what they taste like. He tells the guy as much. But then he gives Adam a handful of huckleberries—they’re a little darker, shinier, and Adam gives him a look before shoveling them into his mouth. They’re—a little tart, not as sweet as the blueberries, but definitely have a more well-rounded flavor, and—Adam can’t believe he’s doing a taste test of berries like he’s a judge on fucking Iron Chef or something, but—yeah, they’re better. He’s not sure he wants to concede just yet though, so he just shrugs at him. 

 

“So?”

 

Adam bites his lip. This guy is really cute, if an annoying, bossy asshole. “They’re alright,” he says. 

 

The guy’s eyes widen and Adam thinks he’s going to burst. He really seems to care about huckleberries. It’s a weird hill to die on, but—

 

“Did you eat some really hot pizza and burn off your taste buds or something?” And he so worked up that its endearing, so Adam smiles at him and the guy visibly relaxes and then narrows his gaze. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you.”

 

Adam shrugs, smirking at him. 

 

He scoffs. 

 

“I guess I’ll take the huckleberries,” Adam tells him after a long pause. 

 

“I’m glad you finally came to your senses.”

 

“So six dollars?” Adam asks, and he feels accomplished when the guy barks out a laugh. 

 

***

 

Adam follows Blue, Joseph, and Ronan to the other side of the bar with a quiet contemplation. He wonders if he should try to talk to Ronan alone, but everything in his body language is standoffish, and Adam doesn’t know if apologizing about fucking up seven years ago would make that better or worse. 

 

He decides against it as soon as they get to the table and Adam takes a seat, and watches Ronan walk all the way around to the other side of the table to take the seat farthest away from him, the one right next to Henry, who’s somehow joined their little group. Adam spends the rest of the night talking with his friends, and trying to ignore the empty feeling in his chest he gets every time he glances over at Ronan. He just wishes they could be…friends, at the very least. He knows it’s not going to happen, but—it’d be so nice to catch up for real, to find out what he’s been up to over the years, to hear him tell stories about his time in Ireland—he wants to know _everything_. It’s sad, but it’s probably what he deserves.

 

***

 

It’s Friday, and Adam’s having an agonizingly slow, drawn-out day at work. Peter’s at school and Blue took the day off, so he’s all by himself in the clinic, sitting with his feet propped up on the receptionist desk, crushing Dean at _Words With Friends_ on his phone.

 

The bell clings, signaling the door opening, and Adam quickly drops his feet to the floor, straightening up so he can come off as if he has some semblance of professionalism. Then he looks up. 

 

He blinks a few times, and yet there he is, like some kind of apparition. 

 

It’s Ronan trudging through the door, stomping his combat boots onto the doormat, eyes downcast, holding a small puppy in his arms. Adam’s mouth goes dry and his heart stutters. He’s pretty sure he’s never experienced anything more attractive in his life. The weather is cold today, so Ronan’s wearing one of those cute jean jackets with the sherpa lining over a red flannel. His beard is full and nicely trimmed, and his hair is a mess of wild, dark curls. He looks so quintessential Pacific Northwest and Adam would laugh at him about it if they were even remotely friends. He’s adorable, holding an equally cute puppy in his arms, and Adam’s not really sure what to do with himself. 

 

He clears his throat. “What’s up?” he asks, tone overtly casual. 

 

Ronan halts in his steps, looking up at Adam with wide, surprised eyes. He frowns, reminding Adam that Ronan _doesn’t_ like him and _doesn’t_ want to see him. Adam sobers his expression and says to him, more seriously, “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

 

Ronan adjusts the puppy in his arms, which makes it whine a little. He feels himself shift quickly into his Vet persona, getting up to walk around the desk and step into Ronan’s space to get a closer look at the dog. 

 

“I thought this was where Peter worked,” he says, voice gruff with abrupt confusion.

 

“Yeah, he’s our receptionist, but he has the day off,” Adam explains, absently. He lifts his hand to lightly pet the puppy’s brow, then it hits him all at once how close they are. This is the closest they’ve been since they broke up. He really needs to get his shit together. “Come on, follow me back.”

 

They set off down the hallway to the exam room and he holds open the door for Ronan. 

 

“Tell me about the patient,” he says, nodding toward the puppy who’s pressing it’s head into Ronan’s chest and whimpering. 

 

“Her leg,” he finally tells Adam. “I guess she wanted to live up to her namesake, and attempted suicide. Probably she just wanted to try flying, I dunno. Jumped off the table and fell wrong.”

 

“What’s her name?”

 

Ronan looks embarrassed. “Dido.” 

 

Adam raises his eyebrows. “You named your dog after a character from _the Aeneid_?” Ronan shrugs, abashed. “Why am I not surprised? Let’s sit her down so I can check out the leg.”

 

When Ronan tries to set Dido down, she whines loudly. “Actually,” Adam says, changing his mind. “Why don’t you sit with her, so she feels safe? And that way you’re close if you have to hold her down while I examine it.” 

 

Which is how Ronan ends up on the exam table with Dido in his lap while Adam works.

 

“I thought you were going to be a doctor,” Ronan remarks, flatly, with an air of condescension. Adam’s so close that he can feel his breath ruffle his hair while he speaks. It strikes Adam as a bit rude, considering, so he gestures at the lab coat and sends him a look. “I am.” 

 

“A human doctor.”

 

Adam looks up at him to see Ronan glaring at the wall behind him. “Things change,” he says with a shrug. 

 

“Evidently,” Ronan mutters. “You seem to have changed a lot.” God, why is he being so bitchy all of a sudden? He seemed fine at the bar—a bit awkward and standoffish, maybe, but he wasn’t openly hostile. Adam’s _really_ not in the mood for this. 

 

“Speak for yourself,” he replies, voice full of false brightness. “I thought you were _never_ going to leave the Barns. Ireland’s a far cry from that.”

 

Ronan’s head snaps up and he glowers at him, opens his mouth like he’s about to argue further, but Adam beats him to it, switching subjects. “Her leg is badly sprained, not broken. I’ll still need to wrap it up.” 

 

Adam works silently and the tension is so thick, he really wishes Blue or Peter were here as a buffer, because being alone in a room with Ronan is proving to be difficult. 

 

“I wasn’t saying I think being a Vet is shittier or anything,” Ronan says abruptly. “I’m just surprised.”

 

“Lots of people think it’s shittier, but I have to say, the patients are remarkably better here.” That gets Ronan’s lip to quirk just the littlest bit, so Adam carries on, throwing his own olive branch into the mix. “I think it’s cool you moved to Ireland. I bet it was awesome.” He thinks it over for a moment then continues with, “At least you didn’t _actually_ join the Navy.”

 

Ronan frowns in confusion and Adam laughs at the face he makes.

 

“You didn’t know?” 

 

He shakes his head slowly, like he thinks Adam’s messing with him. 

 

“When I—um—when I came looking for you, that’s what Declan told me.”

 

He glances up to watch Ronan’s face journey and it is kind of funny all these years later, but he figured Declan would have told him. 

 

“He told you I joined the Navy?” 

 

Adam takes in his astonished expression and shrugs. “He was pretty pissed,” he says, and the way Ronan’s face instantly closes off makes Adam regret it. He really needs to stop bringing up the past. 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan says quietly. This time, the silence that washes over them is heavier as Adam wraps up Dido’s leg. The room feels like a vacuum, and bad memories are spinning around in his head, and by the faraway look on Ronan’s face, he thinks he might be experiencing something similar. Though, maybe not—it’s different, being the wronged party, Adam’s sure. 

 

“I didn’t know you came looking for me,” he says, eventually. Adam feels a tightness form in his throat but he pushes it down. _It doesn’t matter._ He takes his time finishing up the job so he can collect himself and then looks up calmly. 

 

He shrugs. Ronan’s watching him closely. “Anyway, you should bring her back in about two weeks so I can check on her progress. If the swelling gets worse, come back immediately. Wrap it with plastic if she’s going to be walking around in mud or water. I’ll give you some mild pain medicine you can give her, only two times a day max, and it should be taken with her meals.” He turns away so he can write the information down on paper and grabs the pills. Ronan picks Dido up and Adam walks them out to the front. 

 

“Do you want to schedule a follow-up now or just let us know when you’re free? You can do a walk-in again, but I can’t guarantee you won’t have to wait if you do.” 

 

Ronan bites his lip. “I guess I’ll just let you know,” he says. “So, what do I owe you?” he asks, shifting Dido in his arms. 

 

Adam feels a sudden, unmitigated urge to cry, but he tampers it down. He hasn’t felt this crazy of a rollercoaster of emotions in years; in just a couple weeks, Ronan’s flipped his entire mental health upside down. “Don’t worry about it,” he tells him, shrugging it off. “Friends and family discount,” Adam says and he regrets it immediately. Ronan’s eyes widen. _Jesus_. They’re not _friends_. They’re certainly not _family_. Why did he say that? _Fuck_. 

 

“I didn’t realize I qualified.” 

 

Adam wants to ram his head into a wall. 

 

“Peter’s basically your brother-in-law now, I think that counts as family,” he says. Ronan makes a face at that, then sighs, resigned. 

 

“Your friends and family discount is 100% off?” It comes out snarky, which makes Adam feel marginally better. 

 

“Yep.”

 

“Alright. Thanks, I guess.”

 

“Anytime. Let us know when you’re coming back.”

 

“Will do.”

 

“Bye, Ronan.”

 

He awkwardly waves at Adam and then he’s gone. 

 

Adam goes to sit back in the chair, and he’s so distracted, he loses his game. Dean sends him a string of emojis that he probably intends to be smug but is actually nonsense. Adam lets out a loud sigh and drops his head onto the desk, hard.

 

***

 

A Memory: 

 

The first time they kiss, is also when Adam realizes the extent of his oral fixation. They’re on a walk together, that late summer evening sun bleeding out its final orange glow in the sky, and the streets are deserted. Ronan has a red tootsie pop stuck in his mouth, and every time he speaks, he pulls it from his lips and the sight of it bobbing in and out is too much for eighteen year old virgin Adam to handle, he can’t even follow what Ronan’s telling him because he’s so distracted. 

 

Ronan’s lips are stained red from the candy, and he’s having a hard time looking away, he keeps glancing down to his mouth as they turn down another empty street. So the next time Ronan pulls the sucker out to say something, Adam takes the opportunity to lean in and press their lips together. Ronan smiles into the kiss and Adam uses this opening to lick at the candy glistening his lips. Then he presses in, and all of a sudden he’s backing Ronan up against the pole of a _stop sign_ of all things—the irony is lost on him at the time—and he licks eagerly into his mouth, slipping his hands up under Ronan’s loose t-shirt, finally getting his hands on the skin that has been tempting him for _weeks_. 

 

And when Ronan uses the hand that’s not occupied with his tootsie pop to reach up and run his long fingers through Adam’s hair, before cupping his hand around his nape and pulling him in deeper, every part of him that touches Ronan feels like it’s buzzing with electricity. His tongue is warm and he tastes like candy, with a hint of spearmint. 

 

He pulls away and slowly opens his eyes, butterflies going crazy in his stomach. He looks into Ronan’s intensely blue eyes and watches him reach up and slip the candy back into his mouth and smile around it. 

 

It’s perfect. The most perfect cliche first kiss, and he loves everything about it.

 

***

 

Peter and Blue have decided they want to go to the ocean for Adam’s birthday and they’ve been planning the trip at the office during their breaks for the last few days, even though his birthday is well over a month away. Adam’s not involved in the planning, and he’s not sure he even wants to go. By the sound of it, Peter plans to invite not only Ronan but also Henry. Along with everyone else of course. Adam feels weird about it but he doesn’t know how to bring that up—he should be fine with Ronan by now, and it’s embarrassing that he’s not. 

 

They’ve been seeing each other regularly at group hang outs for the last couple months. With Blue and Joseph hanging out or whatever they’re doing, and Peter bringing Matthew along, their friend groups have merged and integrated in a way that seems unbreakable at this point. He and Ronan mostly ignore each other, besides the occasional small talk here and there. 

 

One night, they were all supposed to meet at the bar and when Adam arrived, Ronan was already there, no one else in sight. Adam relented to the obligation he now had to sit down near him and they had the most awkward ‘should we talk to each other or pretend we don’t know each other until the others arrive’ silent showdown, Adam spending the whole time joking around with Whitt and Ronan texting on his phone without looking up once. When Joseph finally showed up, he put it away immediately. Adam’s pretty sure he was fake texting the entire time, but whatever. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to obsess over that right now.

 

Otherwise, though, their interactions have been polite and perfunctory, if few and far between. So the thought of spending four days at the ocean with him shouldn’t be as daunting as it is. 

 

Then there’s the Henry thing. It’s not like Adam doesn’t _like_ him, because he does, which somehow makes it worse. He’s funny and animated and whip smart, and there’s really nothing _not_ to like. But it’s clear that he and Ronan have _something_ going on. They talk and flirt openly during their group hang outs, but Adam can’t tell if they’re dating, or fucking, or whatever, and he’s too much of a coward to ask anyone about it, so he doesn’t know. They’ll be cute together, if they do date, but Adam can’t really handle that. 

 

And it’s like—what if they _are_ dating and they’re just not fans of PDA? When they’re stuck together for a long weekend, there’s such a high chance that Adam will have to witness them kissing or sneaking up to their shared bedroom at night, and it’s not even normal jealousy that he’s feeling—it’s just so heartbreaking that it makes him feel sick to think about. 

 

Plus—and it’s probably his greatest issue, really—the idea of spending his birthday with Ronan just makes him remember the last birthday of his they spent together.

 

***

 

A Memory: 

 

Adam _knows_ he’s leaving in a month and a half, and logically he’s aware he’s playing with fire—starting a cliche summer romance right before he leaves, to move how ever many hours away to start college. Chances are, things will fall apart as soon as he does, but he can’t care about that now—not when Ronan’s here with him, lips to kiss, skin to touch, hands to hold, eyes to stare into, jokes to laugh at, memories to make. He tries, he really does, to keep his inevitable departure in the back of his mind as he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into the chasm that is Ronan Niall Lynch. 

 

Somewhere between that first kiss and his birthday, he forgets. 

 

Adam’s birthday is the day before a holiday, which means it’s a day _before_ the celebration. He doesn’t mind, he likes having a low-key birthday, and he expects nothing different this year. 

 

They’re sitting in the grass in the lone park in Henrietta when Ronan asks him.

 

“What are you doing for the 4th?”

 

Adam shrugs, not sure if he should bring it up or not. They’ve been dating for a few weeks, so it’s not like Ronan’s already required to spend his birthday with him. 

 

“Well, Gansey’s having a party, and I want you there with me,” he says, matter-of-fact. 

 

“Well if you want me there,” he says with a roll of his eyes. Ronan huffs and moves to lean down to kiss Adam, which evolves into sticking his tongue into Adam’s mouth, which evolves into sucking on Adam’s neck and slipping his hand up Adam’s shirt, rubbing his hand over his stomach and ribs. He hears his own sharp intake of breath and bites his lip to stifle a moan. He’s bad at hiding how reactive his body is to Ronan’s…everything. 

 

He has one hand on the back of his neck, holding him in place, and his other is fisting into Ronan’s shirt as he tries to slow his gasps. 

 

Things have been going like this a lot lately. He and Ronan will make out and grope at each other everywhere but below the belt, and Adam’s not sure if either of them are ready to move things forward yet, but—he _knows_ , somewhere deep down, that they will, at some point, and the idea that Ronan will be his first makes him overwhelmingly giddy inside. 

 

When Ronan pulls back, panting along with Adam, he plops down next to him as they try to control their breathing. Adam contemplates it as he looks at the slope of Ronan’s neck, at his thick eyebrows scrunched together, eyes squeezed shut, but he knows as soon as Ronan opens his eyes and looks straight up at him and smiles—not a smirk or a grin, but a genuine smile. Adam smiles back and leans down to kiss him one more time, chastely. 

 

He reaches down to run his fingers over the line of Ronan’s jaw, over his sharp cheekbones, over his brow bone that relaxes as he touches it, over his eyelids when they slide closed, over his long nose, then finally over his swollen bottom lip. Ronan opens his mouth and on impulse, Adam pushes two of his fingers in to press on his tongue lightly. Ronan looks at him and sucks his fingers into his mouth, and Adam feels a jolt of hot arousal rush through his body right to his dick. 

 

He sighs, then says, “My birthday is on the 3rd,” casual as he can, but it comes out soft and breathy. Ronan’s eyebrows raise and he lets Adam’s fingers drop from his mouth and sits up. 

 

Adam looks down and picks at pieces of grass, suddenly embarrassed, then he feels a hand slide into his and Ronan asks, voice hesitant, but Adam can hear the excitement in it, “Can I spend it with you?”

 

Adam smiles and nods, still not meeting his eye. “We don’t have to do anything special,” he tells him, honestly. “Making out with you is a sufficient gift.” 

 

Ronan leans his head into his shoulder so Adam can feel him shake it. 

 

“I think I can do better than that, Parrish.”

 

***

 

It’s not until everyone’s outside Adam’s and Blue’s apartment figuring out who will be driving with who that Adam realizes he was roped into this trip and it’s too late to back out now. Peter, Matthew, and Whitt pile into Donovan’s car. Henry, Noah, and Blue end up in Joseph’s, and Adam cannot understand how this happened. It’s just him, Tad, Sebastian, Lizzie, and Ronan left. 

 

Ronan suggests they take his BMW, but Adam’s Land Rover has more trunk space and leg room. So he tells him, “My car’s bigger,” which Ronan seems put off by. That pouty look of disdain used to be one of Adam’s favorite things to sloppily kiss off Ronan’s face. Now it just makes his heart race uselessly and painfully in his chest, the worst kind of muscle memory.

 

Lizzie calls shotgun, but then Sebastian tells her she _has_ to sit with him and Tad in the back so he can tell her all the latest gossip. Which leaves Ronan in the front seat. Adam stares at Sebastian who sends him the most smug, knowing look, his eyes lit up with mischief. _Jesus_. 

 

Being met with Sebastian Hawthorne’s scheming face is never a good sign, especially when Adam isn’t in on whatever crazy plan he’s concocted, but it’s worse when its clearly somehow _about_ Adam. It’s too early for this, so he ignores him, sighing heavily before opening the driver’s side door. He lets out his breath, gearing himself up for what he has a sinking suspicion will prove to be the most awkward road trip of his life. 

 

As soon as they’re on the road, Sebastian insists on connecting his phone to the car’s bluetooth, declaring that he has all the best road trip songs. Adam relaxes minutely as he falls into the monotonous calm of driving, thoughts narrowing to his fingers fitting into the niches on the steering wheel, keeping pace with the car in front of him. The upbeat happy pop songs Sebastian is playing loudly lends to his focus, keeping him from distracting himself with the close proximity he is to Ronan’s quiet yet unmistakable presence.

 

Sebastian’s clearly planned it this way—the master of subterfuge that he is—to lull Adam into a false sense of security, as that’s when he changes the music and his plot becomes very apparent to Adam. He recognizes it as some stupid Taylor Swift break-up song, and he can’t _believe_ this is happening right now.

 

All of a sudden, Sebastian pauses the song. “Oh my god, this totally reminds me! I have you tell you about the Jeff drama!” he exclaims, loudly. 

 

“Oh my God, _Jeff_?” Lizzie squeals. “What’s he gotten himself into now?” 

 

“Okay, so like, we got a new assistant in our department and a few weeks ago Jeff pulled me into the break room and was like ‘omg that’s my ex-boyfriend from like a _million_ years ago in high school!’ and I was like ‘holy shit’ and then yesterday he was like ‘I’m getting coffee with him this weekend’ and he was like ‘Seb I think I still have feelings for him, what should I do?’ and I was like ‘Uh go for it, obviously’ so now I’m just like, wonder what happened with that?” 

 

Lizzie hums in scandalized pleasure. “Oh they’re totally gonna hook up.”

 

“I hope so. Like, after all those years? _So_ romantic.”

 

Tad breaks into their gossip sounding confused, “Who’s Jeff?”

 

“Jeff from work,” says Sebastian. “You know Jeff.”

 

Tad’s voice shakes as Adam speeds a little too recklessly over a bump in the road. “I’ve literally never heard you mention a Jeff.”

 

“He’s a Junior Editor at Bash’s magazine,” Lizzie explains. 

 

This time the jitter in Tad’s voice has nothing to do with Adam’s unstable grip on the wheel. “I’ve been to all of your work functions and I’ve never met Jeff.”

 

Sebastian sighs, affectedly exasperated. “Honestly, Tad, it’s like you never listen to me.”

 

With that, Sebastian restarts the song and lets it play out, Taylor crooning on about how she wants her love to come back, and how she’ll never forget them, et cetera, and Adam is only tangentially aware of his muscle memory taking the literal and metaphorical wheel. 

 

He cracks his knuckles as he squeezes them into fists, the pang in his chest from the lyrics of the song nothing compared to the shock of embarrassment and self-consciousness that crashes over him as he realizes Ronan just sat through that ridiculous, obviously fake story and the stupid, borderline offensively awkward, song with him. He wants to say something funny about changing the music but he knows that will only make it worse because they’ll ask him why, and it’s just a fucking disaster. 

 

He thinks that’s the worst it can get until the song switches and—the lyrics are _way_ too reminiscent of his own feelings about Ronan, and this time he does see Ronan, shifting in his seat, clearly uncomfortable, and Adam wants to say something to counteract the awkward tension, but he’s not sure what to say. So he just turns the volume dial down, hoping that the group in the back seat won’t notice. 

 

He’s not that lucky. 

 

“No, I _love_ this song!” Lizzie whines. “Turn it up!”

 

“What is it?” Tad asks her. 

 

“ _Back to You_ by Selena Gomez.” says Lizzie. “If you pretend it’s not about Justin Bieber, it’s like, the most romantic song ever.”

 

“It’s not about Justin,” Sebastian sounds positively outraged on Selena’s behalf. “It was written for some bullshit _13 Reasons Why_ promo. She talked about it in an interview and everything. Honestly, Lizzie. You embarrass me.” 

 

Lizzie groans in annoyance. “Then my point is all the more palatable. Your first love being your last, even after so much time apart.” She sighs wistfully. “When it’s true love, you’ll always keep falling back into each other’s lives.” 

 

“I know,” Sebastian’s voice goes smooth and dreamy. “It always makes me think of Tad.” 

 

Tad makes a strangled sort of noise, his grip on his sanity slipping through all the undue turmoil Sebastian and his sister are remorselessly subjecting him to. “Did I forget about us breaking up at some point?” 

 

“I’m just saying!” Sebastian whines, disgruntled at Tad’s lackluster response. “If we ever did, I’d pull a _Say Anything_ and boombox this under your window until you took me back.” 

 

“A sure fire plan,” Lizzie hums appreciatively. 

 

Adam sighs, dejected. Ronan seems to be of the same notion, but his way of dealing with it is to just start talking loudly over the music. 

 

“You know what’s crazy?” Ronan asks. “Art restoration.”

 

Adam blinks and looks over at him. “Yeah…”

 

“Just—for instance, The Madonna del Cardellino by Raphael—it was fucked up in an earthquake like way back in the 1500s, and like ripped into seventeen pieces, and they didn’t know how to restore it because Raphael had recently died so they just nailed it and glued it together and kind of painted over it and were like cool, job well done. But then like four or five centuries later the Uffizi in Florence was like uh this painting is like really deteriorated and fucked up so maybe we should restore it. So they sent it to this institute that does restoration in Florence and fixed it up for like ten years and now it’s really fucking amazing.”

 

“O—okay,” Adam says, not really sure how to reply to that. Adam could not possibly more confused than he is right in this moment. 

 

“And Florence—just, so wild. The Renaissance was basically born there, and,” Ronan keeps talking, but Adam starts tuning him out, freaking out in his own mind. This is like _the most_ awkward moment of his life. He’s sure of it. And Adam’s not sure why Ronan thinks going on a tangent about Florence is the best course of action, but whatever. 

 

Adam tries to focus all of his thoughts onto the road in front of him, and it works for a long time, but then Sebastian switches the song to _Best I Ever Had_ by Vertical Horizon, and even Adam’s best dissociation tactics won’t work. 

 

“—and anyway, that’s how Dante got exiled from Florence.”

 

Adam has no idea what he missed, or how long Ronan was talking, but he has to change the subject. “You must have spent a lot of time in Florence when you lived in Europe,” he says. 

 

He glances at Ronan who’s looking straight ahead. “Oh, no I’ve never been.”

 

Adam just gapes at him and then looks up to meet Sebastian’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Sebastian gives him an incredulous look and Adam sends him a glare.

 

When they arrive at their rented beach house, Adam heads straight for Blue, who’s pulling her duffle-bag out of the back of Joseph’s car. “I can’t believe you abandoned me like that,” he tells her. 

 

She gives him a look. “You had Sebastian!”

 

Adam glares at her. “Exactly, who did everything in his power to make it the most awkward car ride of my life.”

 

Later, they’re on the large back porch, topped with a pergola laden with grapevines, overlooking the ocean. They sit around the built in fire pit and pull out ingredients for s’mores. Adam watches Whitt hold out the opened bag of marshmallows to Blue who sighs and shakes her head. 

 

“I can’t, those have gelatin in them.”

 

Joseph tosses her a bag. “These are vegan, from Trader Joes,” he tells her. 

 

Blue gives him a pleased smile and Adam tries not to roll his eyes. 

 

“Why do you have vegan marshmallows?” he hears Ronan ask Joseph.

 

“Bitch, I’m Jewish, don’t ask questions,” he retorts. 

 

Adam bites back a smile when he hears Ronan mumble, “But you eat bacon,” under his breath. 

 

Once they’re all stuffed full of s’mores and have moved onto alcohol, that’s when the drinking games begin. They start out with an innocent game of ten fingers which devolves into an intense showdown between Joseph and Sebastian of who’s done the most crazy shit. There’s one moment when Adam spots Ronan reaching over to cup his hands over Matthew’s ears, which causes Matthew to scoff at him and inform Ronan that he’s not some innocent virgin. Peter chokes on his mixed drink a little when Ronan turns to glare at him. It’s all very entertaining until they somehow start a game of chaotic truth or dare. 

 

Tad dares Blue to read aloud the last text she received, to which she clears her throat, and says, voice confident, “hey, babydoll, thinking bout you in that little pink nightgown. can’t wait to see you tonight, pink bow emoji,” which causes the group to fall into absolute uproar. 

 

“Oh my god, who?” Sebastian cries out. 

 

“ _Babydoll?_ ” Peter says, choking a little. 

 

Blue shrugs and tells them primly, “No one important, who cares—revealing the sender was _not_ part of the dare.”

 

Blue sets her phasers to stun on Sebastian, and he picks truth, and she thinks she’s going to trip him up by asking him if he thinks the relationship he’s currently in will end in marriage, to which Sebastian simply replies, “When you find a guy who dicks you down so good you can’t walk straight on a regular basis, you don’t really go out looking for the next best thing, do you?” 

 

While the group groans in a varied spectrum from agreement to disgust, Tad throws his face down into his hands, thoroughly humiliated, and Adam can’t help but feel the statement is as insidiously pointed as the music choice in the car. Even Blue’s cheeks flush, caught off guard like she’s the one being personally targeted, somehow. 

 

When it’s Sebastian’s turn to ask, he says, with an enigmatic smirk on his lips that makes Adam inexplicably nervous, “Ronan—if you had to hook up with someone in this circle, who would it be?” Adam locks eyes with Sebastian and fixes him with a look of pure loathing. 

 

Ronan sighs, taking a small sip of his beer to give himself a moment, as if considering, then he just shrugs. “Joseph, I guess,” he says with an amused smile. 

 

It’s clearly a joke, but everyone turns to look at Joseph, who looks at Ronan distastefully, before shrugging with a sigh and saying, “Well, I’d have to ask my girlfriend first, but she _is_ into threesomes, so we’ll see.”

 

Everyone bursts into laughter, with choruses of ‘you have a girlfriend?’ ‘I thought you were gay!’, to which Joseph smugly informs them that yes, he does have a girlfriend, and no, he’s 100% bisexual. Adam watches Blue choke, her face journeying through shock and surprise to embarrassment and horror, before she carefully schools her features into a perfectly neutral expression. Adam laughs, throwing a marshmallow at her, and she swats at him.

 

Then Ronan asks, “Henry, who’s the last person you kissed?” And Adam’s blood turns to ice. His mind starts spiraling. Obviously it’s going to be Ronan, right? Is that why he asked it? To rub it in Adam’s face? Was this because of the stupid stunt Sebastian had pulled in the car? Oh God, did he think Adam had been in on it? Trying to send him some kind of message? Do you like me check yes or no? And now he was responding? In front of their entire friend group? Stomach acid began to _reflux_ precariously in Adam’s esophagus. 

 

He’s shocked out of his preoccupied panic when Henry utters the last name Adam would have thought. “Noah,” he says. 

 

A quiet falls over the group as they let that sink in, mostly shocked that Noah’s kissed someone. It’s certainly his first kiss since Zeke. He notices that Ronan’s not surprised, but he’ll obsess over that later. Noah looks shy, but happy, so Adam’s not worried. 

 

Henry says to Lizzie, “Last person you hooked up with—who, when, and where.” 

 

Lizzie turns to look with barely contained excitement at Ronan, like she’s been waiting to present him with an extravagant gift. “Opal, Matthew’s party, upstairs bathroom.”

 

“With the candlestick?” Sebastian asks, painfully amused with his own wit, as usual. 

 

There are shrieks from multiple people, and Matthew is gaping at her in shock. 

 

Peter finally laughs, breaking the shockwave of awkward silence that settled over everyone. “Watch out, Ronan’s gonna kick your ass.”

 

“Like I’d hit a girl,” Ronan frowns. Adam sighs, because he knows what’s coming next. “If it was some nasty dude, then—”

 

Blue stands up in horror, delivering one of her loudest sexism rants to date. Everyone chimes in with their own varied states of drunken opinions about double standards and toxic masculinity and Ronan just rolls his eyes. 

 

“I didn’t realize everyone wanted me to beat Lizzie’s ass so badly,” he says. “I guess I better get started,” he jokes, face a little crestfallen.

 

Lizzie perks up, ready for a fight, as always. “Bring it on, Lynch!”

 

Tad shakes his head. “Lizzie, it’s your turn to ask someone,” he says, futilely attempting to get them back on some semblance of a track. 

 

She pulls her squinty-eyed gaze from Ronan and turns it on Adam instead. “Fine. Adam, how many people have you slept with?”

 

Adam’s body goes rigid with shock. “Um. Can I have the definition?” 

 

Whitt and Noah giggle at his weak attempt at humor to disguise his white hot humiliation. 

 

Joseph throws him a lazy, unimpressed look. “How many people have you _fucked_?”

 

“Yeah, like Full Throttle Charlie’s Angels 2 penetration,” slurs Sebastian unhelpfully. “So that handjob I gave you junior year of college does _not_ count.” 

 

Adam feels his skin flush hot with repulsive embarrassment. Everyone’s staring at Sebastian and Adam keeps his eyes glued on him too; he doesn’t want to know what anyone else thinks of this new development.

 

“What?” Sebastian balks at the stunned silence. “We were drunk and he was still in his New Moon Bella phase, then he introduced me to Tad like a week later. It’s all Kosh.” 

 

He hears Ronan ask, quietly, “What’s a New Moon Bella phase,” to which Joseph replies, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

 

“Jesus Christ. Can we please stop talking about it?” Adam says. “Okay, so lousy handjobs aside,” he hums and leans his head back to look up at the swirling vines above him, as if contemplating it, as if he has to remember how many people he’s had sex with. This is really the most humiliating moment of his life, but he may as well lean into it. 

 

“I guess just one—one person.” Everyone’s painfully silent, of course, before Blue bursts out with something random and loud and distracting enough for Adam to take a moment to sigh before dropping his head down, sneaking what he hopes will be an unnoticed glance at Ronan, who’s staring at him, has been for who knows how long. He holds Adam’s gaze for a long moment before turning away. 

 

Suddenly it’s too much, and Adam needs to get out of here, but if he gets up now it’ll be obvious why, so he sighs and turns to Peter to ask him something. He really wants to move on from the sexual and romantic questions, so he asks Peter the most innocent question he can think of at the moment. “Peter, what was your first impression of me?”

 

“Oh, I had the biggest crush on you,” Peter says, laughing. 

 

Adam glances to Matthew, who’s glaring daggers at him. He shifts his weight subtly, inching instinctively closer to his boyfriend. Well, that was the opposite of what he was going for. Adam doesn’t notice what Peter asks Donovan or Donovan’s answer, or what people say in response to that in good cheer, because he’s still in fight or flight mode and right now he really just wants to get out of here. 

 

He turns to Blue. “Hey, I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’m tired.” 

 

She nods at him. “I’ll meet you up there soon,” she promises, and then Adam escapes quickly, while no one’s paying attention. 

 

Later, when he’s hating himself, burrowed under the covers, Blue comes into the room and slips under the covers with him, wrapping her arm around him and pressing their bodies together so they’re spooning. 

 

“You’re not going to try to sneak into Joseph’s room and ask him when fuck buddy turned into serious girlfriend?” Adam asks her. 

 

Blue sighs. “I would but he’s rooming with Ronan.” 

 

Adam tenses up at the mention of his name, but he goes for a joke instead. “You think they’re fucking? He did choose Joseph out of all of us.”

 

Blue laughs. “He was obviously joking. I think they’re just ironically platonically in love, like you and me,” she says. “You okay?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” She pauses. “Did you know about Noah and Henry?”

 

He shakes his head. 

 

“Me either. I think it’s good though, for him. Noah deserves some happiness after all this time,” she says, then lowers her voice a little. “So do you.” 

 

“I’m fine,” he says, reaching up to hold her hand. “I have _you_.”

 

***

 

A Memory: 

 

They haven’t really discussed sex yet. They’ve been making out hot and heavy for a few weeks, and a few days ago, they upgraded to getting each other off with their hands, and even though Adam knows that technically counts as sex, it doesn’t _feel_ like it. He wants _more_. 

 

But he doesn’t even know if Ronan’s a virgin or not, not that it matters, exactly—just, if he does bring it up, he doesn’t want to seem like he’s pressuring him or anything like that. Ronan _seems_ so experienced; he’s amazing at kissing and working Adam up by finding every single one of his weak spots, and the way he grinds down on Adam and presses against him speaks to either previous experience or an uncanny understanding of Adam’s body in particular. 

 

The day of Adam’s birthday it’s 101 degrees in Henrietta, with a high level of humidity. They decide to go swimming at the lake. There’s so many families and people trying to cool off, so he and Ronan seek out a quiet spot. They find an area on the rocky side of the lake away from the beach. They strip down into their swim trunks, shove sunglasses on their faces, and plaster on sunscreen. They find a flat rock to lay out on, just basking in the the shade of the trees. 

 

Eventually though, Adam gets too hot. “I’m jumping in,” he tells Ronan, removing his glasses and setting them down. He stretches his arms over his head and cracks his neck before looking down at Ronan. 

 

“Have fun,” he says. 

 

“Nope, you’re coming with me,” Adam says, kicking against his outstretched leg. 

 

“But I’m comfortable,” Ronan whines. 

 

Adam rolls his eyes. “Get up. Birthday rules—you have to do everything I say today,” he tells him. 

 

Ronan perks up at that, sitting up and smirking. “And what kind of depraved things are you gonna make me do?” he teases.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Adam slides into the water gracefully, and swims out far enough that he’s out of the shade of the trees. “Come on,” he pesters. 

 

Ronan takes a few steps back so he can get a running start and he jumps in with a big splash that hits Adam in the face. When he comes up for air, he’s smiling, white teeth showing, and he steps forward, like a predator stalking its prey. Then he disappears under the water. 

 

Adam yelps when he feels a hand creep up his thigh under the water and fingers graze over his crotch. Ronan resurfaces and steps in close, slipping his hands around to cup Adam’s ass and pull them flush together. Then he kisses him, deep, wet, and dirty, and Adam feels himself grow hard under the water. He moans into Ronan’s mouth when he presses his leg between Adam’s and lets him grind down on it.

 

“Jesus,” he whispers.

 

Ronan drops down to suck on Adam’s neck, and Adam’s not sure he’s ever been more turned on in his life. 

 

“Fuck, Ronan,” he whines into his ear, which gets Ronan to grind hard against him and moan into Adam’s neck. The vibrations of his moan sends a chill through him. 

 

Then Ronan leans up to whisper in Adam’s ear, voice unbelievably sexy, “Can I blow you?” Adam almost comes on the spot. 

 

“Yes,” he breathes, pulling Ronan back up so he can suck on his bottom lip. “Please.”

 

They make out for a few more moments before Ronan steps back and extends his hand. “Come here.” Adam takes it and follows him back to the rocks. 

 

“Sit up here,” Ronan instructs him, and Adam’s so anxious to know what it will feel like that he moves quickly and without question.

 

Ronan’s still standing in the lake, which laves around his chest, sending soft ripples through the water around him. He pushes Adam’s thighs apart, stepping between them, and Adam feels a shocking thrill spike through him when he feels his hand start to rub up and down Adam’s sides, as if he’s trying to comfort him. He reaches a hand out to rub his fingertips through the short prickly hairs on the nape of Ronan’s neck. 

 

He trails wet, hot, open-mouthed kisses from Adam’s knee up his thigh, distracting him as he reaches up to slip his hands into the waistband of his swim trunks and tug them down. He wraps his long fingers around him, then trails his fingers lightly up his length, making Adam gasp loudly. Ronan grins up at him through impossibly long lashes before leaning forward and swirling his tongue in a slow circle around the head, and Adam has to cover his mouth to stifle the embarrassingly loud moan that escapes him. He watches in complete amazement as Ronan moves to lick a warm, wet stripe from the base, where his hand is wrapped, to the tip, licking softly at the slit before opening his mouth and sucking him down. 

 

Adam’s never experienced anything like it—Ronan’s mouth is warm and wet and perfect around him. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t already come, but he quickly sends out a blanket prayer to every deity that’s ever been worshipped for letting him have this, because he’s pretty sure Ronan’s mouth is actually heaven. 

 

It feels too good, too warm and wet, and he needs to ground himself, so he reaches forward to grab onto Ronan’s shoulders with both hands, and that pushes him further into his mouth, making them both groan. Ronan seems to want this to last as well, as he moves agonizingly slow, sucking on him softly, leaning up to lap at the slit where drops of precome bead. Adam watches him move his tongue around in such slow circles, and it’s starting to get so overwhelming that his legs begin to shake. 

 

“Ronan,” he whines, feeling himself teetering on that edge. Ronan looks up at him, and _fuck_ the sight of him, mouth sucking on him—it’s too much. His fingers tighten on Ronan’s shoulders, trying to signal what’s happening, but Ronan just closes his eyes and slides Adam’s cock as far down his throat as he can, sucks hard, and moans. The sound vibrates all the way through Adam, pushing him over the edge, his mind going blank as hot pleasure hits him and he comes hard into Ronan’s mouth,jaw dropped in a silent cry. 

 

When he comes down from his high, Ronan’s mouth is still around him, but they make eye contact before he pulls off with a wet pop. He smiles widely at Adam, then carefully pulls his swim trunks back up to cover him again. 

 

Adam’s still out of it, but once he regains himself a little, he sends Ronan a happy, sated smile. 

 

“Happy birthday,” Ronan says, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to Adam’s stomach. 

 

Adam laughs and tugs at Ronan’s shoulder, pulling him close again. “What about you? Can I return the favor?”

 

Ronan makes a face and looks down at his hands.

 

“What?” Adam reaches out to lightly tug his face up. 

 

Ronan sighs, “I came in my fucking swim trunks,” he says. Adam bites his lip on a smile. “It was hot, okay? Shut up.”

 

Adam leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me ,” he tells Ronan. 

 

Ronan leans his cheek on Adam’s thigh. “Really?”

 

“Yeah. You’re kind of amazing,” he says. 

 

Ronan closes his eyes and smiles. “So are you.”

 

“Come back up here,” Adam says. He helps Ronan pull himself back up onto the rock and they lie back down together, fingers intertwined, grins plastered to their faces. As he starts to drift off to sleep, Adam is overcome with overwhelming fondness for the boy next to him, and all he can think is that he never wants to let go. 

 

***

 

Adam and Blue wake up early on the morning of his birthday, and she leans over and kisses his cheek before rushing downstairs to grab a plate full of pastries and fruit and two mugs of coffee. The two of them stay in bed, snuggled together, watching Parks and Rec on his laptop. He’d told everyone he didn’t want to do anything special for his birthday, so he’s kind of hoping he can stay in bed all day, avoiding Ronan entirely. It’s not like he cares about his birthdays or anything, it’s just hard not to think about what happened exactly eight years ago on this day. 

 

He and Blue briefly pause their marathon to skype with Dean, Maura, and the rest of the family back in Henrietta, but otherwise they stay like that until late into the afternoon. Eventually he decides he wants to go for a walk on the beach, and when Blue offers to come with him, he declines, telling her to sort her shit out with Joseph. 

 

He wants to be alone. So he grabs a book and heads down to the beach, walking along the water, and eventually finding a nice spot to sit and read. Adam doesn’t know how long he’s there, he gets completely absorbed in the story he’s reading, but at some point the sun must have gone down, because it’s all of a sudden difficult to read the pages, so he decides to head back to the house.

 

It’s quiet and mostly dark when he gets inside, only a couple lamps on in the living room that give off a soft sepia glow to the room. He thinks he’s alone, until he sees Ronan on the couch. Adam tries to walk quietly past, but Ronan sees him. 

 

“Hey,” he says softly to Adam. 

 

Adam turns and gives him a small smile. If only he had a _How To Talk To Your Ex For Dummies_ handbook with him. “Hey yourself. Where’s everyone else?” 

 

Ronan shrugs. “Up in bed, I suppose.”

 

“Why are you down here?” he asks.

 

Ronan scoffs. “Blue and Joseph are up in my room ‘talking’,” he explains. 

 

Adam smirks. “Ah, I see.” He shifts, not really knowing what else to say. “Well I hope your sexile doesn’t last as long as Dante’s exile,” he jokes, calling back to their conversation in the car. Ronan shakes his head at him. 

 

Adam turns to leave, and is almost to the bottom stair when he hears Ronan call out. “Hey, Adam?”

 

Adam turns his head. “Yeah?”

 

“Happy birthday.”

 

Adam’s heart clenches and at this point he doesn’t know if it’s a positive or negative ache that burns through him. “Thank you, Ronan,” he says, before heading up the stairs to his room. 

 

***

 

On the morning of the 4th, the weather is the warmest it’s been since they arrived at the beach, so the whole gang decides to head out for a picnic on the beach. Everyone gets decked out in their swimsuits, and they bring towels and beach blankets, coolers full of food and beer, and trek down the beach until they find a good spot. 

 

It’s really nice. The food is good, mostly made by Tad and Ronan, and Ronan even made a bunch of pies, which is so cute. He and Joseph also brought about fifteen growlers of Cabeswater beer for everyone to drink, so everyone’s in high spirits. 

 

After they eat, Blue, Sebastian, Lizzie, Henry, and Noah splash around wildly in the water while Adam and Tad lay on a blanket together, basking in the warmth of the sun on their backs. There’s a large cluster of tall rocks jutting out from the ground not that far away, and Whitt, Matthew, Donovan, and Peter head off toward them, wondering aloud if the water’s deep enough for them to jump off. 

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ronan yells to them. “The water is not deep enough, you’ll fall to your deaths!” Which makes Adam laugh because Ronan sounds like a 1950’s grandmother, scolding her grandkids. 

 

Adam’s sitting up, stretching his back when he hears the scream. He looks over just in time to see it happen—Matthew slipping on the rocks and falling into the water. Adam’s scrambling to get up and run to him before he knows what he’s doing. Somehow though, Ronan reaches him first, pulling him out of the water with Donovan’s help. They set him down on the beach and all crowd around him with equal amounts of hysteria and fear. Adam pushes through and tells them to get back. 

 

He has a gash on his forehead which is bleeding pretty badly, and he’s been knocked unconscious. Adam slides down to his knees in the sand to examine him. Ronan hasn’t backed off, panicking and shaking Matthew’s shoulder, saying his name over and over, trying to wake him up. 

 

Adam turns to him and uses his most stern voice. “Ronan, _stop jostling him_.”

 

Ronan stops moving but doesn’t back up. He can vaguely hear Peter crying, but he focuses, making sure that Matthew’s breathing, checking his pulse, which is steady, then looking around his head for other injuries. 

 

“Someone go get your phone and look up how close the nearest hospital is,” he says, and Whitt and Donovan disappear, Peter moving closer to grasp Matthew’s still hand. 

 

“Shouldn’t we call 911 and get an ambulance?” Ronan asks, voice shaky. 

 

Adam checks Matthew’s pupils, his neck, his spine. “I think it’s just a concussion,” he tells them. 

 

“You _think?_ ” Ronan yells at him, but Adam doesn’t take it personally. 

 

“Ronan, come on, let’s move him into Peter’s lap,” he says. They carefully lift Matthew’s head and gently set it down onto Peter’s thigh. Ronan moves close and reaches out to brush back Matthew’s wet curls from his forehead. 

 

“He’s bleeding really bad,” Peter chokes out.

 

“Head wounds always bleed really bad, trust me. He’s breathing, and the cut looks superficial. His spine seems fine. The only reason I don’t want to move him yet is because he could have other injuries we don’t know about yet from the fall.” 

 

“Then shouldn’t we—” Ronan starts, but at that moment Matthew stirs, blinking his eyes open, dazed and unfocused, but conscious. Ronan and Peter both choke a little. 

 

“Matthew? How you feeling, buddy?” Ronan asks.

 

“M’okay,” Matthew says and Adam sighs, shaking his head at Ronan. 

 

“What day is it?” Adam asks. 

 

“Fourth of July.”

 

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

 

Matthew smiles a little. “Peter Mirchandani.”

 

“How many fingers am I holding up.” 

 

“Three.”

 

“Okay, we’re going to take you to the doctor and get you checked out. You feel okay to sit up? Or are you too dizzy?”

 

“We didn’t make you a cake,” Matthew says, ignoring Adam’s questions.

 

“What?” 

 

“Your birthday,” he explains. “Last time we made you a cake—me, Opal, and Declan. We should have made you a cake.” 

 

Adam locks eyes with Ronan. “Well his long term memory seems intact.” To Matthew he says, “Opal’s at college and Declan hates me, I think you’re off the hook.” 

 

Matthew shakes his head. “But _I_ don’t hate you.” 

 

Then Peter’s helping him sit up, and saying something to him, kissing his fingers. Adam looks down, as if monitoring the cut on Matthew’s face, but really he just doesn’t want to see whatever expression is on Ronan’s face. Luckily, Whitt and Donovan arrive and inform them that the hospital is fifteen minutes away and that everyone else is packing up the house so they should head out. 

 

Adam helps them move Matthew into Donovan’s car, and Whitt, Peter, and Ronan get in with him. Ronan sends him a look, but then they’re driving away too quickly for Adam to interpret it, so he’s just left standing there.

 

When Blue finds him, she’s packed up all their things and hands him a change of clothes. “Here, go shower and put these on. We’re going to clean up the house and then we can head out.”

 

“To go home?”

 

She shakes her head. “No, we should stop by the hospital. Bring Peter and the boys some coffee and donuts. They’ll probably be there for awhile.” Adam nods and does what she says. 

 

When they get to the hospital, they call Whitt, who comes and walks them back to Matthew’s room. Adam hands him one of the coffees. “They took him back for a CT scan, so we’ll know what’s up soon,” Whitt tells them. 

 

Blue goes to give Peter a hug and hands him a coffee, dropping the box of donuts onto a table. Adam feels awkward all of a sudden, like he shouldn’t be here. He turns to Ronan who’s sitting in a chair by the bed. He looks up at Adam and his eyes widen. Adam walks over and hands him a coffee. “There’s donuts too,” he says. “Better grab a maple bar before they’re all gone.” He really is the worst at small talk. 

 

Ronan takes the coffee and gestures to the chair on the other side of the bed. Adam sits. “Thank you,” Ronan says. “For what you did back there. I about lost my mind.”

 

Adam shrugs. “Hey, he’s your brother. And I was pre-med, remember? It’s still up there. Even if I never did end up becoming a human doctor,” he jokes. 

 

Ronan sighs. “Seriously, though. Thank you. You’re pretty good in a crisis.” 

 

Adam drops his gaze and bites down on a smile. “Well, we’re gonna head back to Portland. Will you let us know what happens? Just—I’m sure he’s fine and it’s just a concussion, but keep us updated?”

 

He looks up and Ronan’s looking at him softly. He nods. 

 

Adam gives him a faint smile. 

 

Later that night, when they’re back in Portland and Adam’s in bed, his phone buzzes. 

 

He has a text from DO NOT CALL UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES EVER that says:

 

**matthews CT looks good so they’re letting us take him home**

 

Adam texts back immediately. 

 

_i’m so glad. drive safe._

 

DO NOT CALL UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES EVER says:

 

**thank you, adam**

 

Adam feels something flutter in his chest. 

 

***

 

A Memory: 

 

The rest of the day is spent in complete bliss—they nap and laze around, then head over to The Barns to have dinner. Adam’s touched when he finds that Declan, Matthew, and Opal had baked him a cake. It’s nice, comfortable hanging out with Ronan’s family. 

 

After dinner, they head up to Ronan’s bedroom and Adam’s inexplicably nervous all of a sudden. Ronan’s hand settles warm on Adam’s back as he leads him through the doorway, then he pushes Adam onto the bed and smiles at him. 

 

“I changed my mind about the party. I just wanna spend tomorrow in here with you,” he tells Adam. 

 

Adam gives him a look. “That’s because you’re a misanthrope."

 

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Don’t SAT me. It’s actually because I’m a horny eighteen year old with the world’s hottest boyfriend and I want to spend as much time as possible with him, but whatever you say.”

 

The first press of his mouth to Ronan’s is soft, and he takes care to slide his tongue lightly against the seam of his lips. Ronan sighs, and Adam knows they’re probably about to have sex, but somehow these soft, sweet kisses they’re exchanging are the most sensual experience he’s had to date. 

 

They lay on their sides, making out slowly, like they have all the time in the world, and Adam likes that—likes that they’re not rushing through this, ripping their clothes off and skipping foreplay like they’re starring in some bad porno. Adam shifts eventually, slotting his leg between Ronan’s, then moving on top of him, which puts their hips together in a way that lends nicely to dry-humping, but that’s not what’s on the agenda for the night, so he leans up after a smacking kiss to Ronan’s cheek. 

 

He pulls his t-shirt off and tosses it onto the floor, yanking lightly on Ronan’s so he does the same. Then he tugs his jeans off and reaches forward to undo the button on Ronan’s and slowly slide the zipper down. It feels overwhelming just to be able to help undress him like this. Ronan lifts his hips and Adam pulls his jeans off and adds them to the ever-growing pile of clothing on the floor. 

 

When he crawls back onto Ronan, it’s finally skin on skin, and somehow Adam’s hips have found themselves perfectly placed between Ronan’s thighs, and he groans softly at the contact. He slips his hands up to pull Ronan’s face into his, kissing him deep and hard, and when Ronan shifts, so his hips jerk up into Adam’s they both moan loudly into each other’s mouths. 

 

Ronan pulls back, laughing. “Shh, we gotta be quiet,” he says with a wide smile. “I’m gonna turn on some music, otherwise Declan will be rushing in here to throw a box of fucking condoms at us or something.” Adam laughs and moves off of him so he can get up and plug his phone into the speakers, scrolling through to choose a playlist. Then he turns the lights off and the glow of the red lava lamp on the nightstand illuminates Ronan’s handsome face, casting him in what Adam can only describe as _Suspiria_ lighting.

 

“Did you make a sex playlist?” Adam asks incredulous. 

 

Ronan turns around. “It’s just a normal playlist,” he protests with a whine. 

 

Adam pulls Ronan on top of him and presses a kiss to his neck. “You totally made a special sex playlist just for me,” he says, stupidly gleeful.

 

Ronan grumbles. “Who else would I make a sex playlist for?” He makes the cutest pouty face and it makes Adam so fond he thinks his heart is going to actually burst out of his chest with the strength of it. So he reaches up to skate his hands over the smooth planes of Ronan’s back and moves to suck bruises up into his warm, tan, skin. Ronan hums and grinds down against him, tangling his fingers into Adam’s hair. He nips at Ronan’s pulse point and either in retaliation or involuntary reaction, he pulls hard at Adam’s hair. And wow—Adam really, really likes that.

 

Then Ronan pulls back, sitting up. “Wait,” he says, and Adam panics, but he’s just reaching for his jeans to pull something out of his pocket. He hands it to Adam. Adam looks at it in his hand. It’s a braided leather bracelet, soft and handmade. He smiles up at Ronan, who looks away, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “It’s kind of lame, but I made it for you.” 

 

Adam clutches the bracelet to his chest, the braided leather soft on his skin. “I love it,” he says, his heart so full. Ronan looks up at him and Adam’s smile stretches wider. “Can you put it on me?” he asks, softly. Ronan nods, reaching out to grab ahold of Adam’s wrist and Adam feels goosebumps appear as his soft fingers move to fasten the bracelet around it. It’s strange, how it happens, one moment he feels pleasantly happy, and in the next he feels so overwhelmingly consumed with a feeling so raw and real it almost stops his heart. 

 

While the rest of the world continues on unaware, Adam feels something inside him change forever. 

 

He tries to keep it in, as he looks into Ronan’s piercing blue eyes. He knows it’s too soon, that it’s not something to say right before you have sex with someone for the first time, but he feels it so fully and truly and it’s as if every atom in his body seems compelled to say it, because the next words out of his mouth are, “I love you.”

 

Ronan leans in so quickly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Adam’s lips. “I love you, too,” he says, without even a moment of hesitation. Adam’s never felt so complete before, so at home, so loved, and he doesn’t think anything can ever top this moment. He pulls back and presses their foreheads together, taking a moment to commit this all to memory. 

 

“Thank you for the bracelet,” he tells him softly, before diminishing the space between them and pressing their lips together. They fall back into the bed, kissing each other with renewed vigor, that kind of tongues sliding, teeth biting, lips sucking, passionate kissing that gets blood pumping. 

 

He feels like he’s in a daze as they pull their underwear off. “What do you want?” he asks Ronan. 

 

Ronan smiles, leaning forward to bite Adam’s bottom lip. “I want you to fuck me,” he says. Adam gulps, nodding. Then Ronan’s grabbing a small bottle of lube and an unopened box of condoms and dropping himself back onto the bed. He pulls Adam on top of him, fidgeting with the bottle of lube. “Do you want me to do it, or do you want to?” he asks. 

 

Adam bites his lips. “I want to.” He rubs the lube onto his fingers and works slowly and carefully to stretch Ronan open without hurting him. He takes his time, and when Ronan seems sufficiently ready, Adam reaches in with his fingers, curling and poking around lightly until he finds the spot he’s looking for. When he reaches it, he presses down and Ronan let’s out the loudest, most obscene moan, and Adam feels it wash over him, the knowledge that he can bring Ronan so much pleasure even when he doesn’t really know what he’s doing—it makes him grow impossibly harder. 

 

Once he’s regained himself a little, he pulls his fingers out slowly. He fumbles with the condom wrapper, suddenly overcome with nerves. Ronan sits up. “Can I do it?” he asks, voice so wrecked. Adam nods and watches Ronan rip the wrapper open with his teeth, then grab Adam’s length to slowly roll it over him. Adam gasps, so sensitive already. He doesn’t see how he’s going to last more than a couple seconds when he actually gets inside of him.

 

Ronan lies back down, shifts so his head is on his pillow, and then Adam lines himself up at Ronan’s entrance, one hand ready to guide himself in, the other clasped around Ronan’s hip. Even though they’ve made it this far already, he still feels compelled to ask, “You sure?”

 

Ronan nods. Warmth coils low in his stomach as he slowly presses into Ronan—the tight heat around him so overwhelming that he has to bite down hard on his own tongue, drawing blood, just so he doesn’t come on the spot. He wants to make this good for Ronan, so he’s got to make himself last until Ronan comes too. He lets go of himself as he sinks in, hand falling flat onto the mattress to brace himself. 

 

He waits, trying to calm down. “Come on,” Ronan says, encouraging. “I’m ready, _please_ ,” he whines, so Adam pulls back a little and then pushes forward in one rapid motion until he’s snug, all the way inside of Ronan. They both moan. 

 

“Fuck,” Adam pants, trying to get control of himself. His head is buzzing. He pulls back and thrusts in again, overcome by the intimacy of it. He tries to focus on finding that spot inside Ronan rather than chasing his own orgasm that could happen at any second. He reaches out with both hands to curl around and lift Ronan’s hips, and the next thrust is deeper, and Ronan cries out so nicely, so Adam keeps that position, pressing in with that same motion with every thrust. It feels so unbelievably good, but his pleasure spikes when Ronan starts shifting up to meet him at each thrust and they’re both making so much noise that Adam absently wonders if Ronan’s sex playlist is actually drowning it out or not. 

 

He’s pulled back into focus when Ronan’s thighs start shaking and he starts moaning Adam’s name. Adam looks down, taking him in—the flush of his face, his eyes pressed tight together, the slap of his hard cock against his stomach with every movement of Adam’s hips. He’s so beautiful. He wonders why Ronan hasn’t grabbed ahold of himself and started jerking off, when it occurs to Adam that he’s waiting—for Adam to touch him? To make him come? To _let_ him come? The idea pulls a deep groan out of him and he pushes into Ronan harder, faster, reaching out to grab onto Ronan’s leaking, untouched cock and rolling his palm over it. 

 

“I need you to come, Ronan. You gotta, I’m so close,” Adam tell him, panting.

 

“Fuck,” Ronan moans, and Adam pushes in as deep and hard as he can, pulling his fist up and down on Ronan’s cock at the same time, and then he can feel it happen—Ronan clenching down hard and tight over Adam while he moans, coming all over Adam’s fist. Adam gasps, finally succumbing to his own orgasm, an overwhelming feeling of pleasure and release and bliss and perfection and warmth spreading through him before he falls forward, reaching out with his arms to keep himself from crushing Ronan. He leans down to kiss him, but it’s really more just the two of them panting into each other’s mouths, worn out and sated. 

 

Eventually Adam gets up, tosses the condom into Ronan’s waste basket and grabs his own shirt to wipe him down with, too tired to try to track down a towel. Then Ronan pulls him into his arms and under the covers, wrapping his body around Adam’s, and they quickly drift off to sleep together. 

 

***

 

It’s been a couple of months since his birthday, and Adam’s finally starting to feel comfortable with all the new additions to their group of friends. Even Ronan. Ever since Matthew’s accident, what once was a quiet truce, now has grown into what seems almost like a tentative friendship. It’s progress, and it means a lot to Adam. 

 

So when Adam heads into the front waiting room at the office and sees Ronan sitting in a chair, flipping through a magazine, Dido laying at his feet, he’s pleasantly surprised. Ronan’s smile when he looks up is bright and untroubled, and it makes Adam think back to the first time he came to the clinic, and he’s happy to realize how far they’ve come since then. 

 

“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” he tells Ronan. “If I’d known you two were here, I’d have let you in sooner.” He leads them back to an exam room. 

 

“I don’t think doctors are supposed to play favorites like that,” Ronan says, amused. 

 

Adam crouches down to greet Dido, scratching behind her ears and under her chin until she leans into him, preening. “Well if I had to pick a favorite you’d certainly be it,” he says in a voice that’s embarrassingly close to baby-talk. It takes him a moment to realize Ronan could have interpreted that one of two ways, but when he stands back up and looks at him, Ronan’s smiling. 

 

“Maybe next time you should schedule an appointment,” he says. 

 

Ronan grins at him. “Realistic suggestions only, please.”

 

They chat as he gives Dido her check up, and for the first time in a long time, he realizes their conversation no longer consists of that awkward small talk that plagued them for so many months—it’s normal, comfortable even. 

 

“She’s getting so big,” Adam says, smiling as Ronan holds her in his lap on the exam table. “Soon she’ll be too big for you to sit up there with her.”

 

Ronan groans, wrapping his arms around Dido rubbing his face into the back of her neck. “No, I want her to be a baby forever.”

 

Adam laughs. “Every parent’s curse.”

 

Ronan smiles up at him, and Adam feels himself flush. This kind of banter doesn’t mean anything, he knows that, but it feels too close to flirting that Adam’s not sure how to deal with it. Ronan’s so cute right now, hugging his puppy and smiling up at him and, Adam’s suddenly overcome with want— _specific_ want, that involves kissing Ronan, and feeling what his beard’s like, scratching at his cheeks and chin and neck. It’s a dangerous thought to have, and he needs to shove it away. 

 

When they head back out to the waiting room, it’s completely empty. “Peter and Blue should be back from lunch soon, if you wanna hang out until then and say hi,” Adam suggests.

 

Ronan sits down in Peter’s chair behind the front desk, getting comfortable, and Adam pulls up another to sit with him. After a moment he narrows his eyes at Adam. “Wait, you skipped lunch for this?” 

 

Adam shrugs. “When it’s busy I usually send them out and stay behind. It’s not like they can run the place without me,” he says smiling. “I’m a one man show.” 

 

Ronan shakes his head, hand petting Dido who’s sitting patiently at his side. A loose curl falls into his eyes and Adam has to clench his fists to keep himself from reaching out and brushing it away. “When was the last time you ate?” Ronan asks, concerned. 

 

Adam laughs, “I’m fine! I promise. I have food waiting for me in the fridge.” 

 

Ronan shakes his head. “Seriously, Parrish. Go get your food.” Adam’s stomach flutters with those same old butterflies at his teasing, comfortable tone. 

 

“But what if someone comes in?” he asks, really just stalling because he wants to keep Ronan talking to him. 

 

Ronan rolls his eyes. “I think I can handle manning a desk for the thirty seconds it’ll take you to grab your lunch and walk back here.”

 

Adam grins at him and then hurries away, grabbing his lunch and rushing back to plop down in the chair. Ronan looks at his watch. “I think that was more like five seconds,” he says, grinning at Adam, who’s panting, hand at his chest, out of breath. 

 

“Now eat your damn lunch.”

 

It feels like the closest they’ve ever been to where they used to be. Of course that’s when the bell of the door clangs and someone comes into the clinic. He’s a guy, about their age, blonde and holding a similarly blonde cat. 

 

Adam’s got a forkful of salad in his mouth, so it’s nice that Ronan’s there to ask, “What can we help you with?”

 

The guy looks from Ronan to Adam and then his eyes widen, face splitting into an astonished smile. “Adam Parrish?”

 

Adam swallows his food and takes a sip of water before answering, “Uh, yes?”

 

“Elliot— _William_ Elliot, we were in pre-med together way back when,” he says with an eager smile. Adam glances at Ronan who’s wearing a blank stare that’s completely unreadable. 

 

“Oh, sorry, I’m so bad with faces. Cool to see you again! How’s the cat?”

 

Elliot shakes himself out of some reverie and turns to the cat. “Just need some flea medicine. So, wow, how’ve you been? You look great! And a vet—not what I would have expected, to be honest.” 

 

Adam has maybe the vaguest recollection of this guy in a few of his classes in undergrad, but that was so long ago. Well, he must have just not made any impression to Adam, since Ronan had been ‘so long ago’ too, and he recognized him instantly. Adam seems to have made a distinct impression on Elliot though, who’s gone on to ask Adam if he wants to catch up, grab coffee sometime. 

 

Adam really doesn’t care about this guy, but he has to take him back to take care of his cat, so he turns to Ronan to tell him. He looks closed off and distant, but Adam says, “Hey, I’ll be right back.” Ronan just nods. Then he follows Elliot in to check out his cat and give him the medicine, but by the time they’re back in the front room, what couldn’t be more than ten minutes tops, Ronan’s already gone. 

 

Adam sighs, his friendly butterflies going dormant again, while his heart returns to its usual dull, allegedly beating state. He doesn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed for being stupid enough to think something was changing, happening, between him and Ronan. He just feels the nondescript ache of reality wash over him, and accepts the monotonous pain of it in stride, as one does. 

 

***

 

A Memory: 

 

It comes to a head about a week before Adam leaves for California. 

 

They’ve carefully avoided the topic for too long, and Adam’s been trying to figure it out on his own, but he’s coming up short. He didn’t plan for this—who would plan to fall in love the summer before their freshman year of college? 

 

The fact that they’re about to be on opposite coasts is suddenly throwing him into a panic. Do they break up? Try long distance? Does Ronan have a plan for this already that he’s just going to spring on Adam? He has to talk to him. He just doesn’t know how to broach the subject. 

 

In the end, he doesn’t have to. 

 

“Do you think you’ll be back for Thanksgiving?” Ronan asks. They went on a long hike together today which absolutely exhausted Adam to the core. They’re in Ronan’s bed, half naked, but both too tired to do anything about it. 

 

Adam’s eyebrows lift in surprise at the question. It’s out of nowhere—they haven’t discussed the future at all. “Probably not,” he says, with a wince. “Too short of a break. Winter break is pretty long, so I’ll be coming back for that.”

 

He looks up at Ronan, who’s fingers are trailing up and down Adam’s side, absentmindedly. He has a look of deep consideration on his face. “Maybe I can come see you.” 

 

“You’re going to leave Matthew for Thanksgiving?” Adam asks, because it just seems ridiculous. 

 

Ronan sighs. “Probably not.”

 

Adam presses his face into Ronan’s warm chest. He takes a faltering breath. He doesn’t know what to say, so he squeezes his arms around Ronan more tightly than before. 

 

“I don’t want to break up,” Ronan assures him, and Adam lets out a relieved sigh. 

 

“Me either.”

 

Ronan leans down to press a warm kiss to Adam’s shoulder. “But we should talk about it—what we’re going to do.”

 

Adam nods against Ronan’s chest and then pulls away so he can sit up, facing him. 

 

“We can talk on the phone,” Adam suggests, but Ronan gives him a tight smile. 

 

“There’s not really any cell reception out here, but I could drive into town.”

 

Adam nods. “Maybe I will come back for Thanksgiving,” he says. “It’s not that big of a deal, and it’d be worth it.”

 

Ronan grabs his hand and squeezes it. “I’ll email you.”

 

Adam huffs out a laugh. “You’ll _email_ me?”

 

Ronan shrugs. “I have better internet than phone service here.”

 

Adam’s face softens and he leans in to press a kiss to Ronan’s cheek. “Okay.”

 

“It’s—it’s only three months, right?”

 

Adam knows, in the back of his mind, that it’s not just three months—it’s four years, and then what? Will Ronan leave Henrietta? Will Adam have to move back? They’ve been together for less than two months. But he loves Ronan—he _knows_ that it’s love, and he’ll do anything he can to keep him. 

 

So he nods. “Three months.”

 

Adam wouldn’t say he and Dean have a father/son relationship exactly. Dean treats him more like a cool uncle, or a benefactor. That isn’t to say they aren’t close, because they are. 

 

They met at a crucial time in Adam’s life. He’d been out of his father’s house and in the system for four years before Dean took him in; first as a foster parent, and Adam right away noticed that he wasn’t like any of the other foster parents he’d had. A lot of them tried to shape him into their idea of a perfect son, and when he ultimately didn’t fit into it because it was an unattainable concept, they’d send him back. Other families wanted him for the money, and those were the worst—with so many foster kids under one roof, vying for attention and taking it out on each other when they didn’t receive it. During those days, Adam would try to disappear, blend into the walls and make as little noise as possible. It reminded him so much of living with his father. 

 

When Dean took him in, Adam didn’t have high hopes anymore, but somehow, it worked out. Dean didn’t want anything specific from Adam, and he certainly didn’t need the money, which he stored away in Adam’s college fund. He adopted him as soon as he was able, and Adam finally felt what it was like to have security and safety. 

 

Their relationship was comfortable and quiet—they talked, but Dean never pushed him to open up about anything and Adam liked that. 

 

So when Adam decides to talk to him about his situation with Ronan, he’s not sure what will come of it. 

 

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” Adam asks when he comes down for breakfast two mornings before he flies out. 

 

Dean is at the table in the breakfast nook, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. He sets the paper down and smiles at Adam warmly. “You can talk to me about lots of things.”

 

Adam drops himself into a chair and sighs heavily. “It’s about Ronan.”

 

“Ah,” says Dean, a deep air of knowing resounding in his voice. “The boyfriend.”

 

Adam nods. 

 

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Is this a sex question?”

 

Adam flushes. “No,” he protests. Dean just shrugs. “It’s about—I’m moving to California,” he says. 

 

There’s a long pause before Dean says, all sarcastic because he’s an asshole, “So _that’s_ why you’ve been packing all week. I’ve been wondering.”

 

Adam rolls his eyes. “We talked about it, and we decided to stay together and try the whole long-distance thing.”

 

Dean takes a sip of his coffee and his gaze softens a little. “And you want my advice?”

 

Adam nods, fidgeting. 

 

Dean sighs. 

 

“I don’t want to upset you,” he says, “But, Adam. You’re going to be thousands of miles away. You’ll be busy with classes and friends and the college freshman experience, and he’ll be here. I’m not saying that it’s impossible, but I don’t really think it’s fair to either of you. You don’t want to spend every moment worrying about whether you need to get back to your dorm and call or skype your boyfriend, and it’s four years. If he was closer, I’d feel a little differently, but if you do become a doctor, then there’s medical school and residency, and are you going to come back here for that or is he going to follow you around? I’m not saying that you have to look four, six, eight years into the future to make a decision, but it might be easier to break it off now, then for it to happen when you’re only seeing each other every few months and holidays.” 

 

Adam feels his eyes fill with tears.

 

“Do you love him?” Dean asks.

 

Adam nods, because he’s not sure he can speak right now. 

 

“Then maybe it’s worth it,” Dean shrugged, unconvinced. “But I think if you do break up, it’s better to do it sooner than later. And even though you love him, you’re 19 years old. I don’t say that to be condescending. I just want you to know that your first love doesn’t have to be your only love. You have a whole life ahead of you, and you’ll find other people who are worth loving too.” He pauses. “But, what would I know? You have to make the decision for yourself.” 

 

Adam feels his heart start to shatter. It’s the logic of it all that gets to him most. It’s not like Dean’s trying to hurt him, he’s trying to look after him. But Adam isn’t ready for it so he tries his best to push it into the back of his mind. He thanks Dean for his honesty, and goes on to spend the rest of the day and the next with Ronan, but the conversation sticks with him, even when they’re saying goodbye. It sticks with him when they talk on the phone in his dorm room, when they skype, and even when he reads Ronan’s heartfelt emails. It’s undoubtedly the beginning of the end, but Adam ignores it. 

 

***

 

Ever since they reconnected at the clinic, Adam seems to run into Elliot wherever he goes—the coffee shop, the bar, the grocery store, and he doesn’t really have a problem with him, exactly, but he’s not interested in the way Elliot seems to be, so he usually just says hello, and rushes through the perfunctory small talk before saying goodbye.

 

Things with Ronan have somehow regressed. He’s not rude…exactly. He’s polite, even nice, but in such a cold, closed-off, _we’re not friends_ way that makes Adam wonder what he did or if the previous progress had all been a result of his desperate imagination. If he said or did something that triggered Ronan back to the incident, reminding him why he should hate and ignore Adam for the rest of his life. He doesn’t know, but it hurts in a way that worries Adam. It feels like he has no power over himself or his life.

 

One night, when their group are all out at the bar, Adam has been playing a secret drinking game with Blue and Sebastian where they each take a shot every time Tad says “You know what I mean?” And, Tad’s said it _way_ too many times at this point, because Adam’s already drunk. He doesn’t know why he always plays drinking games with Blue and Sebastian when he knows he has the least tolerance out of the three of them. 

 

He’s feeling pretty dizzy, so he tells everyone he needs to go get some air. He’s hates throwing up, and he’ll do anything to avoid it, and he can’t think of anything to sober him up other than walking out into the cold, fresh air. He’s making his way across the bar toward the exit, which is unfortunately where Elliot finds him. He didn’t even realize Elliot was here, since his eyes have been too preoccupied with someone else. Adam’s stumbling a little, and he’s so close to his intended destination, but Elliot stops him with an arm, throwing it around him. Adam’s too out of it to articulate himself properly, so he let’s Elliot talk at him while he pulls Adam outside. At least he’s finally going to get some fresh air. 

 

He’s momentarily relieved by the crisp cool air hitting his skin, but then he feels himself becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Elliot’s too close to him and is pulling him with him, arm tight around Adam. He’s disoriented, and then all of a sudden he finds himself pressed against the wall outside the bar. 

 

“Are you okay?” Elliot asks, voice full of concern, but he’s rubbing his hands over Adam’s arms and Adam just wants to get _away_ from him. 

 

"Yeah, I’m fine,” he tells him, because he’s not sure what else to say, or how to get out of this situation without any of the potential fallback. Something’s keeping him in place. Gravity? Fear? Instinct? He doesn’t know. 

 

Elliot presses in closer and Adam feels adrenaline pulse through him, _fight or flight_. “It’s alright, I can take you home,” he tells Adam, leaning in close. 

 

Adam shakes his head. “I’m here with my friends. I just need to get back to them.”

 

Adam’s so dizzy and drunk, but also very alert, and the problem with his fight or flight instinct is that sometimes his amygdala chooses a third option—freeze. It’s the worst option, but it’s something that happens sometimes, used to happen a lot when he was a little kid. 

 

So when Adam feels Elliot press his leg between Adam’s and lean in to kiss him, he freezes in shock. He doesn’t know what to do because he’s pressed against the wall and he can’t move, but he’s shaking and he feels so suffocated, sick like he’s either going to faint or finally throw up. 

 

Suddenly, as Adam’s mind is drifting away, falling out of reality, into another place entirely, he’s shocked back in when the body holding him down is suddenly wrenched away. 

 

Adam distantly hears Elliot say, “Hey man, what’s your problem?” but his voice sounds so far away, like Adam’s in a glass box that doesn’t let much sound in. 

 

He does hear the crack of knuckles hitting bone though, _that_ breaks through. He opens his eyes, and realizes that tears are falling from them. He slumps back against the wall hands still shaky and head still dizzy, and watches Ronan—on his knees in front of Adam, one hand fisted in the front of Elliot’s jacket, the other repeatedly punching him in the face, over and over, and somehow each crack he hears, each splatter of blood he sees, makes Adam feel a little more aware and awake. 

 

Elliot’s not moving, but Ronan still hasn’t stopped, so Adam hurries to find his voice. “Ronan,” he says softly. He pauses, turns his head, and looks up at Adam. Hair a mess of curls dropping into his eyes, face full of fury that softens so quickly. He lets go of Elliot and looks up at Adam with a pleading expression, but Adam doesn’t know what he’s begging for this time. 

 

So Adam just holds out his hand. Ronan stands up, brushing himself off, then takes Adam’s hand. Adam looks at him. His face is half in shadow, half full of glow from the red neon sign above them, like a flame of chiaroscuro right there for Adam to reach out and burn himself on.

 

“You okay?” he asks, quietly, slowly. Adam shakes his head. “Do you want me to get Blue?” Adam shakes his head again. “Do you want me to call the police?” 

 

“No.” Then he falls forward, into Ronan. He doesn’t have any control of his body right now. Ronan catches him and holds him up, putting an arm around him, and he’s so warm and nice and comforting and Adam wishes he could do this more often. 

 

It takes him a moment to find his voice again. “Can you take me home?”

 

Ronan nods. “Anything you need.”They step around Elliot’s body and Ronan helps him walk down the street, across to the parking lot where Ronan’s BMW is parked. 

 

Adam frowns. “Can you drive?”

 

Ronan gives him a half-amused smile. “I’ve been doing it for awhile, yeah.”

 

“But aren’t you drunk?” He did just punch someone a bunch. Adam must have said that out loud, because Ronan shakes his head a little as he pushes Adam into the passenger seat of the car. 

 

“I don’t have to be drunk to beat up assholes who are assaulting my friends,” he says. 

 

“Oh.”

 

Ronan gets in the car and helps Adam strap his seatbelt in. Then he turns on some relaxing music, which Adam really appreciates. 

 

“I didn’t drink at all tonight. I don’t really do that much anymore. Just a few here and there, but I don’t get drunk,” he says. 

 

“Oh,” he repeats, looking out the window at the blur of lights blinking by.

 

He gets really dizzy in the car, so he closes his eyes and concentrates on his breathing. 

 

“You okay?” he hears Ronan ask him again. “Seriously, Adam, that was really scary and fucked up. Do you need anything?”

 

“We’re friends?” Adam asks instead. 

 

Ronan doesn’t say anything for awhile, and Adam keeps his eyes closed so he doesn’t have to know what Ronan’s eyes are telling him that his mouth isn’t. But then Ronan says, “Yeah, I think so.” 

 

Adam smiles sleepily. “I think so, too.”

 

It’s nice, getting to be friends with Ronan. Because he loves Ronan, and if he can be friends with him then he can have him in his life forever. Adam feels himself start to drift off to the music playing, and he must fall asleep because soon Ronan is shaking his shoulder. 

 

“We’re here.” 

 

“Oh,” Adam whispers. 

 

“Do you need help getting in your place?” 

 

“It’s hard to say,” Adam tells him, seriously. 

 

Ronan gets out of the car anyway, and opens the passenger side door, reaching out his hand so Adam can grab it and Ronan pulls him to his feet. His hand is so warm and nice that Adam feels a shiver run through him. 

 

Ronan seems to misinterpret that. “Okay?”

 

Adam nods, but lets Ronan lead him up to his apartment. He takes Adam’s keys and uses them to get them inside proficiently. 

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so drunk before,” Ronan says, and he sounds almost fond.

 

Adam finds himself giggling a little. “I don’t think I’ve ever _been_ this drunk before,” he says honestly. Then he sighs. “Remember when you stole that bottle of Gansey’s dad’s whiskey and we drank it down by that dock at the river, with our feet in the water?” 

 

Ronan scoffs. “Yeah, and you kept trying to tell me about the constellations by making shit up.”

 

Adam laughs, “Well, I was _trying_ to impress you.”

 

Ronan smiles. “Well, it worked.” 

 

Adam’s smiling and he’s so content even though he’s too drunk to really stand up properly. He kicks off his shoes and stumbles into his bedroom. It’s a little embarrassing when Ronan has to help him take his jeans off. That’s when he notices the blood on Ronan’s hand, his swollen, bruised knuckles. 

 

“Your hand,” he says, grabbing it. 

 

Ronan shakes his head, waving him off. “No, it’s okay. Get in bed.”

 

Adam gives him the most stern look he can achieve while drunk. “Come here, now,” he orders. Ronan blinks at him. He drags Ronan into the bathroom, pushes his hand under cold water and washes off the blood. Then he pushes Ronan to sit on the closed lid of the toilet and stumbles over to the medicine cabinet, looking for the pain relieving antibacterial ointment, and he knocks over a few bottles of pills. 

 

“Jesus,” Ronan says. 

 

“It’s fine. Those are Blue’s.” He lightly dabs Ronan’s knuckles with as much of the ointment as he can squeeze out of the tube. 

 

“I think that’s enough,” Ronan says, biting his lip like he’s trying not to laugh. 

 

“Fine,” Adam says. He can’t find anything more than some small _Star Wars_ bandaids, and they certainly wouldn’t be able to cover Ronan’s cuts, but there’s a roll of gauze, and he figures he can just use that. Same thing. Ronan’s other hand has to grab him by the waist to hold him up, and Adam’s standing very close to him while he wraps the gauze around his hand over and over. He doesn’t know how to tie it off, so he grabs one of the _Star Wars_ bandaids, a Chewbacca, and uses it to seal the gauze. 

 

“There you go,” he says, then he falls forward again so Ronan catches him. 

 

“God, Parrish, you’re kind of a mess.” 

 

Adam sighs. “I love your cologne,” he tells him. “You smell the same.” Then Ronan pulls him into his bedroom and deposits him onto his bed.

 

“It’s cold,” he whines when he’s lying in bed in just his boxer briefs and t-shirt. “Can you get me a sweatshirt and some sweatpants, please?”

 

Ronan moves around Adam’s room for awhile, and when he finds his dresser, it takes him a surprisingly long time to pick out a sweatshirt, and Adam shivers, but then he comes back and helps Adam get into his comfy sweatpants. Adam rips off his shirt. 

 

“I thought you were cold.” 

 

“I like the feeling of the sweatshirt on my skin,” he explains. When he sees the one Ronan chose, he smiles, “That’s my favorite one!”

 

Once he’s fully dressed, Ronan tucks him into the covers and shuts the light off. Adam reaches over to his bedpost to touch the leather wrapped around it and then shoves his hand back under the covers.

 

“Ronan,” he whispers. “Thank you for saving me. And for being my friend.”

 

“Shh, just go to sleep,” Ronan whispers back. 

 

“Okay.”

 

He snuggles in, eyes closed, so sleepy. “Goodnight,” he whispers. 

 

“Goodnight, Adam.”

 

He drifts off into a dreamless sleep, smile on his face.

 

The next morning, when Adam wakes up, he sits up and instantly has a hangover. It’s weird how that happens. How you can be laying in bed, feeling fine, and the moment you sit up it’s like your body remembers ‘oh yeah, we went a little crazy last night, here’s your punishment’. 

 

He looks over at his bedside table and is surprised to see two ibuprofen and a full glass of water. Blue must have brought them to him when she got in last night. He takes the pills and downs the water, then pads into the bathroom, wincing at every movement his head makes.

 

When he looks into the mirror, he feels his stomach drop and his face flush in complete horror. “Oh my god,” he tells himself. 

 

That’s when Blue bursts through the front door, calling his name, and when she finds him, she plops down on the closed lid of the toilet, looking freshly showered, but in the same clothes she wore to the bar. 

 

They stare at each other for a moment before Adam says, “Blue, my life is over.”

 

She scrunches her eyebrows together in confusion. “What? Why?”

 

He recounts what he remembers from what happened with Elliot, to his drive home with Ronan, to him having to dress him and help him into bed. Once she’s asked him if he’s okay and if he needs anything and if he wants to go to the police about thirty times, Adam finally cuts her off. 

 

“You don’t understand.”

 

“Friends beat up their friends’ attackers and help them get home safely and take their pants off when the situation calls for it. I don’t see the problem.”

 

“LOOK AT WHAT I’M WEARING!” Adam shrieks at her. 

 

He watches her frown, and take in the over-worn, threadbare Aglionby Tennis sweatshirt he’s currently wearing, and then her eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

 

“Yeah, _shit_. He literally went into my dresser and saw it, chose it, and then dressed me in it.”

 

“Well, I mean. It can’t be _that_ bad. If he was freaked out that you still have it, he would have just chosen another sweatshirt.” 

 

“Unless he _knew_ I would wake up and look in the mirror and know that he knows and he’s trying to throw me off.”

 

“Throw you off _what?_ Are you still drunk?”

 

“I literally looked at it and told him it was my favorite.” Then he has another realization. “Oh my god, you didn’t come home last night.” 

 

Blue glares at him. “I was too drunk, what’s it to you?”

 

Adam gapes at her. “Then who left me the ibuprofen?” 

 

Blue actually cackles. 

 

“It’s not funny! I said embarrassing things and I think I brought up some off-limits old time stuff, and I tried to drunkenly patch up his hand really badly, and then he found the sweatshirt and now I’ve probably scared him off _right_ when he finally said we were friends!”

 

“You know you’re freaking out about nothing, right?”

 

Adam stares at her. “He left me ibuprofen,” he says flatly. 

 

“So?”

 

Adam takes a deep breath. Yeah, he probably is still drunk. “I’m in love with him.”

 

Blue scoffs. “And water’s wet.” 

 

Adam runs his hands over his face and puts the hood of the sweatshirt on, pulling the strings so it curls around his face. 

 

Blue rolls her eyes at him. “Go take a shower, you complete idiot.”

 

***

 

A Memory: 

 

In a way, Adam’s decision not to go back to Henrietta for Thanksgiving is the catalyst. By the time he realizes he needs to buy a ticket, he’s so busy studying, and since his midterms are right after Thanksgiving break, he ends up deciding it’s not worth the strain it could put on his grades. Ronan’s crushed, voice sad and quiet on the phone, but ultimately understanding and supportive in the way he always is. 

 

Then Ronan makes the unexpected decision to surprise Adam, flying over to California on the day of his last final. Adam already has a ticket bought and paid for, departing for Virginia in less than a week, but when Adam sees him there, waiting outside of his class, he gathers Adam up in his arms and tells him he couldn’t wait another day. It’s romantic and sweet, and they kiss and hug for what feels like hours, before heading back to Adam’s dorm. It’s been four months, and he wants to fuck his boyfriend. 

 

But when they get back to his dorm room, Sebastian is in there already, laying on his bed with his legs crossed. He doesn’t look up from his magazine as they enter the room and says, “We really need another bottle of vodka. Our stock has been empty since Friendsgiving, and I _need_ a post-finals drunken celebration.”

 

Adam bites his lip. “This is Sebastian, my roommate,” he tells Ronan, who has a strange look on his face. 

 

Sebastian looks up at that, face lighting up. “Oh my god! The faraway boyfriend! He’s real!” He stands up and hurries forward to introduce himself properly, reaching his hand out toward Ronan. “Sebastian Alexander Hawthorne IV,” he says. Ronan shakes his hand and says, “Ronan Lynch.” 

 

“I told you he was real. I showed you pictures of him and everything,” Adam says, a little chagrined.

 

“Yes, but to see one in the flesh is distinctly unlike viewing one on a phone screen, Adam.”

 

“Well, here I am,” Ronan says, a little stiffly. 

 

“And it’s _very_ nice to meet you. You two have fun, I’m off to go try to flirt with that librarian and see if he’ll buy us some more vodka. Bye!” He leaves so quickly, neither Ronan or Adam have a moment to react. 

 

Adam shrugs, turns to Ronan and slides his hands over his shoulders, locking his fingers together to pull him in. “Well you’ve got me all alone now,” he says. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

 

He kisses Ronan, but Ronan’s not really responding much, so Adam pulls back, frowning. “What’s wrong?” 

 

Ronan sighs and pulls away to sit on Adam’s bed. “Nothing, I’m just tired, long flight,” he says dismissively. Then he changes course and goes on. “What’s the deal with that guy?”

 

Adam sits down next to him and wraps his arms around Ronan. “Sebastian? Nothing, he’s just my roommate. Kind of crazy but in a fun way,” he explains. 

 

Ronan sighs. “What did he mean about Friendsgiving? Did you get really drunk or something?”

 

Adam feels a knot form in the pit of his stomach, but he doesn’t know why. “Yeah, just a few of us who didn’t go home got together and hung out, nothing special.”

 

“It’s just weird that you spent Thanksgiving break getting wasted when you said you couldn’t come see me because you were studying.”

 

There’s a lump in Adam’s throat now, and he wants to push it down, but he doesn’t know how, so his voice comes out a little shaky. “I did study, I didn’t lie to you or anything. I’m sorry if it seems like it. It was just one night, to blow off steam.”

 

“Okay,” Ronan says. Adam watches him internalize it, his face closing off and his shoulders squaring, and it breaks Adam’s heart a little. “Sorry.”

 

Adam shakes his head, pulling Ronan in for a hug. “No. I’m sorry, I wanted to be with you.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Ronan says, deflating. 

 

Later they’re kissing, laying in Adam’s bed, not even trying to start anything, just wanting to hold each other and bask in each other’s presence. “I just wish I could see you more,” Ronan says. “It’s hard, sometimes.”

 

Adam nods. “Do you think you’ll ever move away?” He regrets it as soon as he says it, watching Ronan’s eyes narrow.

 

“I can’t. Opal and Matthew are still in school. I have to be there for them,” he says. And Adam should let it go. It’s none of his business, but something inside of him wants to push, to let Ronan know that he has other options, and—he needs to know where this is going. 

 

“Declan is their guardian. Can’t he take care of them?” he asks. 

 

Ronan’s gaze sharpens and he clenches his jaw, and there’s something acrimonious in the look he gives him. “I’m not leaving them,” he says.

 

Adam presses on. “Okay, but what about the in the future? Have you thought about college or anything?”

 

Ronan sits up abruptly, and Adam feels that tightness return to a dull pressure in his throat. “Adam, what is this about? I like where I live. I don’t need to go to college. I’m a farmer. I already have a job.”

 

Adam frowns, “Okay, but—” 

 

“There’s nothing wrong with not going to college. Why are you trying to improve me or whatever? I’m not here to be your little fucking project. I’m happy with my life.” 

 

“That’s not what I meant. I just want you to know you have other options. You don’t _have_ to be a farmer.” He winces at the hurt that crosses Ronan’s face. 

 

“God, you’re such an elitist,” Ronan snaps at him. 

 

Adam shakes his head. “Are you kidding me? I’m not an elitist. I was literally born in a trailer park, and for the longest time I thought this wasn’t a possibility, that I could never be here, and now that I am, I’m not about to squander the opportunity that was given to me.” 

 

“So you think I’m squandering my opportunities?”

 

Adam sighs. “That’s not what I said.”

 

“But is it what you mean?” 

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Jesus Christ. What is even happening right now?” He watches Ronan press his elbows to his knees and cover his face with his hands. 

 

“I don’t know,” he repeats.

 

He doesn’t know. Adam doesn’t know what’s happening. He doesn’t want this to be happening. The puzzle pieces swirl around in his mind and he finds himself wishing he could see the big picture, the etching of their future on the back of a cardboard box that he can look at and know what choices to make, how to fit the pieces together. 

 

He doesn’t know what to do. If Ronan’s never going to leave, how are their lives going to ever intersect, without one of them giving up what they want? 

 

“If you’re never going to leave the Barns and I’m going to be in college for fucking ever in medical school, how long are we supposed to continue this long distance?”

 

Ronan’s hands fall from his face and he looks down at them. There are tears in his eyes. “As long as it takes,” he says, voice hoarse. 

 

Adam realizes Dean was right, that this isn’t fair to him. He’s miserable, and even though Adam knows Ronan loves him and will do anything he can to stay together, their relationship isn’t fair to him. 

 

He’s always going to be the one waiting on Adam. Dean was right, breaking it off now will be better, easier on Ronan, whereas if they drag this out too long, it’ll crush them both irreversibly. 

 

That’s when Adam realizes that he’s going to have to be the one to break up with Ronan. Because he knows Ronan will hang on for dear life, regardless of whether it’s bad for him or not. So Adam does what he needs to do and hurts Ronan, breaks his heart, all the while breaking his own in the process. 

 

His throat feels like it’s closing, like he’s having an anaphylactic reaction. 

 

“I don’t see how it can last that long like this,” Adam says.

 

Ronan looks up at him, eyes brimming with tears, face crushed like he’s about to plead Adam to stop what he’s doing. But he can’t. Ronan doesn’t deserve this. He just doesn’t realize that yet. 

 

“You want to break up with me?” His voice is so broken it brings tears to Adam’s eyes and he turns away to wipe at them, not turning back to Ronan until all the evidence is gone. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Ronan grabs his hands, and Adam’s heart shatters. “Please don’t do this. Adam, _I love you._ Please.”

 

Adam’s body is going into shock, there’s no other explanation for how hard his chest hurts, how thick the lump in his throat is, how numb his fingers feel. “I know. I’m sorry. I just…” 

 

He sucks in his breath, decision slamming down over his heart like a mousetrap. “I don’t feel the same way as you do.”He closes his eyes as if that will keep the tears from falling. He feels Ronan’s hands drop from his. Feels the bed shift as he stands up. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he says. He hears the door slam, and when he opens his eyes again, Ronan’s gone. 

 

***

 

A few days after Ronan drove him home, Adam finds himself calling Dean. 

 

Once they make it through all the catching up they needed to do, Dean asks, “So why did you _really_ call?”

 

Adam sighs. “Do you remember Ronan Lynch?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Well, he’s kind of back in my life. Really back in my life, actually. Has been since Spring. He lives in Portland and we have mutual friends, so I see him all the time and—it’s hard. It’s hard but, I still love him.” 

 

Dean pauses again. “Does he love you too?”

 

“I don’t know—I don’t really know how he feels about me. We’re friends. But all that stuff you said to me, back then, right before I left for undergrad—I don’t know if you remember.”

 

“I remember it vaguely. You wondering if it could work out.”

 

Adam nods before remembering he’s on the phone. “You said all this logical stuff about long distance relationships and you told me that my first love doesn’t have to be my only love.” 

 

Dean sighs. “I’m sorry if what I said back then hurt you or caused any problems, but if you’re asking, I still stand by what I said. It’s been what, seven—eight years?”

 

“Yeah,” Adam answers quietly. 

 

“You were so young, and it was a pretty impossible situation. Now it’s not though, right? You live in the same place, you’re probably both more emotionally ready to start a relationship. I think breaking things off back then _did_ make sense, but if it doesn’t work out now, when all the chips have fallen into place—if he can’t love you now—Adam, you need to move on.”

 

Adam feels his heart drop. 

 

“You deserve to be loved, you deserve all of it, and you’ve been depriving yourself of so much all these years, which is fine! I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with staying away from romance or love, if it’s for the right reason. But you did it because of him, didn’t you? When it really comes down to it.”

 

Adam feels tears slowly fall down his cheeks, all the pent up emotions he’s been trying to hold back hitting him all at once. He chokes out an affirmative. 

 

“Just, don’t let yourself miss out on love or happiness just for someone who’s not going to give it to you. Obviously, if he does love you, then I’ll be so happy for you that it all worked out. But, I think you should find out, set things straight with him once and for all, and if it’s a no—then I think it’s time to move on. I know what I’m saying is really upsetting and hard to hear, but that’s why you called me, isn’t it? You wanted someone to be honest with you about it.”

 

Adam’s crying uncontrollably now, this unbearably heavy feeling in his chest, but he somehow finds it in him to reply. “ _Yes_ , I just—I know what you’re saying is true and it’s right but I don’t know how I can bear it. It feels like my hearts been breaking for eight years and I don’t know if I can ever get over it if it happens again.” He’d known loneliness before Ronan, but it’s hard to really believe that or recall it. He can’t seem to remember that period of his life in any way but academic at this point. The loneliness he felt after loosing Ronan isn’t something that ever left him, and even though he still feels it, it’s been different, having him back in his life, and he’s not sure he will ever recover if he finds himself back there again.

 

“I wish I had all the answers, but I don’t. I’ll always be here for you when you need me to, but—Adam this is really important—I’m only giving you advice, my own opinions formed by my own bias and experience. That doesn’t mean you have to be persuaded by whatever I say. Even if it’s logical. Love can’t always be logical. I just want you to be happy, but you have to go with what you choose.”

 

Adam takes a deep breath in and slowly releases it, feeling resolve wash over him. “I know—well, I know that now. Thank you.” He sniffs. “Sorry for crying at you.”

 

Dean chuckles. “Kid, you can cry at me any day of the year, whenever you want.”

 

“Okay,” he says and takes a few more deep breaths. “Well, I guess I’ll—let you know what happens.”

 

“I’m rooting for you, always,” Dean says, and Adam hangs up feeling strangely rectified. 

 

***

 

“It just sucks, you know? Noah says, dejected. “Like, I met his whole family, he met mine, our lives were so intertwined and all of a sudden that’s just gone. And every time I think about him I remember how perfect everything was, how I’d really believed that I was never going to date anyone else ever again.” He sighs and takes a sip of his drink. “But, it’s been so long, so many years. I should be moving on, right? I shouldn’t feel guilty for falling for someone else, I know that, logically. But it’s hard. He was like my _soulmate_.”

 

Adam looks over at Ronan who’s sitting at the table with them, but he’s absorbed in what looks like a game on his phone, so he figures he’s not paying attention. He doesn’t really know what to say, his experience is so different from Noah’s. “He died, and there’s not a deadline for moving on. You don’t have to _ever_ move on, but if you do, that doesn’t mean you love him any less. You love him and I think you always will, but you can love someone else without siphoning the love you felt for him and pouring that into someone else. That’s not how love works. But honestly, I’m the worst person to ask. As far as dealing with love goes, I’m pretty much the worst they come.” He laughs a little, self-deprecating. 

 

“I don’t think so. You’re like the smartest person I know,” Noah says seriously. “I mean, would _you_ move on?”

 

“My experiences with love are so different from yours, so I really don’t know. And the truth is, I’m not the kind of person who even knows _how_ to fall out of love. If you love someone who can’t love you back or isn’t there to love you back, just because you can’t be with them, doesn’t mean you won’t always love them. Even if you’re just friends, for me, that love never goes away. It could be five, ten years down the line and if that person asked me, I’d probably still be in love with them.” He can see out of his peripheral that Ronan has gone still, stopped typing, but not looking up. 

 

Adam’s too buzzed to let that deter him. “But your situation is different. You have someone new, another chance, and maybe Henry’s your soulmate too.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “I think if you’ve been given this, another real chance, at happiness and love, you have to take it. Because you might regret it, and years down the line, that person will probably have stopped waiting for you, or they’ll have found someone else.” Adam stops when he realizes the extent of what he just said, and his proximity to Ronan, who’s attention is now fully absorbed in texting someone, so he shakes his head and goes back to his original point. “Noah, you’re a great person and you deserve happiness, so I hope things work out between you two. It’s been a long time, but maybe this is it for you. But I’m totally bias. I love you and I’m always going to be on Team Noah Deserves Happiness.”

 

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Noah says, suddenly wild eyed and standing up. “I think—I’m gonna go.” 

 

Adam shrugs, “Good luck,” he says, raising his glass in salute at Noah’s retreating back.

 

Then it’s just Adam and Ronan at the table. He thinks maybe he took things too far, but at the same time, he agrees with Dean—he has to make things clear, lay it all out, all his feelings, so he can finally know once and for all if he lost his only chance. He turns around, ready words poised on the tip of his tongue, ready to slip out, but Ronan’s already standing up. “Hey, you good to get home?” he asks casually. 

 

Adam nods slowly. “I’m catching an Uber with Blue.” 

 

Ronan nods. He opens his mouth like he might say something else. But then seems to change his mind. “See you later, get home safe.”

 

“You too.”

 

***

 

When Adam wakes up for what feels like the twentieth time, he looks over at the clock—it’s aggressively early for a Sunday morning, but he may as well give up on sleeping at this point. He’s been tossing and turning all night, his mind on a track that swerves between anxiety and depression. Last night, if anything, proves once and for all that he and Ronan are only ever going to be friends. But he’s happy, so happy that he has him back in his life after everything, so it’s not like having Ronan’s friendship is some shitty consolation prize. But, still. Adam basically spilled his heart out right in front of Ronan, so blatant and honest, and Ronan didn’t react at all. He was texting someone the entire time, and it’s not like Adam’s surprised. If anything Adam just made him uncomfortable, since he immediately got up and left. 

 

He knows what this means. He needs to finally accept the reality of the situation and let go of this silly rom-com fantasy that he’s concocted in his mind of he and Ronan finally ending up together after all these years. It’s ridiculous. He’s ridiculous. It’s time to let go of Ronan, and find a way to move on, just like Dean said, so he doesn’t fuck things up all over again—their friendship, so hard won, and after so many months of uncertainty, matters to him. At least he has that.

 

He grabs his phone off his nightstand, unplugging it from the charger, and sees he has a few messages. There’s one from Noah that just says ‘thanks’ with a few double heart emojis, and then one from Blue that’s so hard to understand Adam feels like he’s back in his Ancient Greek class. Most of it is keysmash level gibberish, so he can only decipher a few of the words,—drink, Kavinsky, three, dome, shit, you?, and then a string of seven syringe emojis followed by three red hearts. He shakes his head—he’ll worry about that later—then moves on to check his email.

 

Adam’s one of those people who can’t handle seeing a red bubble notification over any of his apps, and he obsessively checks his email because of it. When it updates, there’s two emails—one from Great Lakes Borrowing Services reminding him of his hefty student loan payment, which he studiously ignores, and another from Ronan Lynch. 

 

Adam feels adrenaline rush through him. The time says 1:15am. So right after he left the bar. Oh god. The subject line says: **Hey, I know this is weird, but** and Adam sits up and leans against his headboard, taking a few deep breaths. The last time he received an email from Ronan, they were still dating, and then it was his favorite mode of sending Adam love letters. Now it’s probably to tell him how weird and uncomfortable everything he said was. He bites down on his tongue hard, stomach churning with anxiety, then opens the email. 

 

_Hey, I know this is weird, but since you’re sitting right by me, I figure if I text you, you’ll probably get the notification and read it right in front of me and that would kinda defeat the purpose of the nice barrier email provides. God, this is going to sound so fucking stupid, but I’m not gonna read through or I know I’ll lose my nerve and delete it all, so here goes—something._

 

_If what you’re saying right now about how you’re not the kind of person who can fall out of love is meant to be hypothetical or is about someone else, please forget I ever did this and pretend it never happened, because I really care about our friendship and I’d fucking hate myself if I ruined it all with one goddamn email._

 

_I can’t stop thinking about that time you got really drunk and I drove you home and you asked me if we were friends and when I said yes… God, Adam. You looked so fucking happy and grateful like you’d won the lottery just getting to be called my friend. That’s how I feel about you. I feel like the luckiest guy in the world that I get to call you my friend, get to see you every weekend, watch you smile and laugh and light up every fucking room you enter. Which is why I need you to know that I want you in my life however you’ll let me. I couldn’t bear it if I had to go another seven years without seeing you. So, yeah, take all that in and believe me before I go on and profess my undying love for you. Isn’t it kinda poetic, though? Me sending you an email after all this time. This is how I sent all your other love letters._

 

_You said you’re not the kind of person who knows how to fall out of love, that if someone you loved asked you five or ten years down the line, you’d probably still be in love with them._

 

_Adam, it’s been about eight years now, and this is me asking._

 

_Because I’m so fucking in love with you. I’m just like you, see, I can’t seem to fall out of love either, but it’s more than that. You were my first love and you broke my heart, so I thought that was what kept me hanging on, but then I saw you again and instead of feeling that same love for nineteen year old Adam, I ended up falling for YOU. We’ve both changed, and it shouldn’t make sense, but it does, because I’m in love with you, the person you are now, and I really really hope you were talking about me._

 

_It’s been so hard all these months, but when I helped you to bed that night we said we were friends, I finally had hope again. I mean, you still keep that bracelet I made you for your nineteenth birthday. You still wear my old ass tennis sweatshirt to bed. Maybe you’re just nostalgic, and if that’s all it is, that’s okay._

 

_But, you said—if you have another chance at happiness and love you should take it, or you’ll regret it if you don’t, so I guess this is me taking that chance._

 

_I love you so much and I need you to know that even if you don’t love me now, or the timing is fucked again, and it takes five, ten more years for you to want to be with me, I’ll still love you then._

 

_Because I’m always gonna love you._

 

Adam stares at his phone in shock for an indiscernible amount of time before ripping off the covers violently and throwing open his door, hurrying down the hall to the apartment’s second bedroom. It’s locked, which is annoying, so he repeatedly knocks on the door loudly yelling Blue’s name until it’s finally pulled open and he’s greeted with the sight of a person he does not know. 

 

The guy smiles at Adam, “Hi! You must be Adam, Blue’s roommate! Nice to meet—” Adam cuts him off.

 

“I need Blue,” he says, voice wild, and pushes past him into the room. Blue’s still asleep, snuggled in the blankets, another body wrapped tight around her that looks suspiciously like Joseph, but Adam doesn’t have it in him to care right now. He shakes her. 

 

“Blue, wake up!” 

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Blue, seriously!” She doesn’t budge, he sighs in frantic frustration. “Ma called! The bees are back!” With that Blue sits up in shock. 

 

Adam can’t believe he had to use their old goofy code phrase, after all this time, but this is an emergency. Her hair is mussed and her eyes still fluttering open, and he can see she’s only wearing a lacy bralette, but he’ll comment on this _entire_ situation at a later time. He suddenly realizes what she meant by ‘Kavinsky’ ‘three’ and ‘dome’ in her texts. “What’s going on?” she asks, voice gravelly but alert.

 

Adam doesn’t know how to begin to explain so he simply hands her his phone, email open.

 

He watches her brush her hair behind her ears and wince before turning down the brightness of his phone. Then she concentrates on what she’s seeing. It only takes a few moments before she’s sitting up on her knees on the mattress, arm extending to hit at Adam’s side repeatedly while she reads. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD!” 

 

“What’s going on?” the stranger in the room asks, politely curious. 

 

Blue keeps reading, eyes wide and in shock, and then when she gets to the end of the email, she drops the phone and grabs onto Adam’s arms, stepping out of bed so she can jump around and squeal, shaking Adam’s whole body with the force of it. “Holy shit!” 

 

The guy in the room comes closer. “Is everything alright?”

 

She turns to the him, surprised. “Adam’s ex-boyfriend from like eight years ago who he _still loves_ and has been pining over for like ever just wrote him a _love letter!_ ” She says, each word moving a decibel higher. 

 

“Congratulations!” the guy says, seemingly excited. 

 

“What do I do? I don’t know! Do I write him back? Wait until I see him? Drive over to his place? Call him? What do I _do?_ ” He’s panicking, and he knows it, because his voice has almost reached the level of Blue’s squealing. 

 

“Drive to his place, of course!” Blue tells him, as if it’s the only reasonable option.

 

“It’s like five something in the fucking morning, Blue! He’s probably sleeping—should I just wait a few hours until he’s likely to be awake and then go? Fuck, this is so confusing!” 

 

“Who gives a shit if he’s sleeping! Wake the boy up!”

 

“Go to him now!” the stranger injects excitedly.

 

“Listen to Jiang! Get out of here! Jesus, Why are you wasting time with us?!” 

 

The three of them are continually getting louder and louder with each exclamation, so it’s not a surprise when Joseph finally makes his appearance, shifting in the covers so his head’s on the pillow and sending Adam a glare. “Oh my god, can you all _please_ shut the fuck up? I’m _trying_ to sleep.”

 

Blue turns around and grabs Joseph’s arm, shaking it with excitement. “No, Joseph, wake up! Ronan and Adam are getting back together!” she squeals. 

 

He sits up straight in bed, his face lighting up in a wide open smile. “Oh my god, really?” 

 

“Yes! Aren’t you excited?” Blue asks, smile wide and crazy.

 

Joseph’s face drops back to a scowl. “No,” he deadpans, before falling back into bed, this time pulling the covers over his head. 

 

Adam laughs, feeling hysterical, but such a strong urgency is building in him, a desperation he’s never known before, and—yeah, this Jiang guy is right. He needs to see Ronan _now._

 

***

 

It’s a heavy deluging rain that awaits him when he makes it to Ronan’s building. The Pacific Northwest autumn is in full force and Adam is immediately soaked from the moment he’s out of the car. He rushes forward until he’s standing under the heavy branches of a large pine tree, then pulls out his phone. He decides to text him rather than call. If Ronan isn’t home then he doesn’t want to be forced to do this over the phone. 

 

_hey, come outside_

 

He sees the three little dots appear and then disappear as if he’s deleted whatever he was going to say. Adam’s heartbeat races in anticipation.

 

He waits under the tree, staring at his phone, waiting for the dots to reappear, when the door to Ronan’s building opens, and there he is—barefoot, wearing plaid pajama bottoms and nothing else. 

 

He looks around, bewildered, but Adam steps out from under the tree and walks over so he’s standing a few yards in front of him. As soon as he locks eyes with Adam, he falters. 

 

“Hey,” Adam calls through the loud, heavy rain. 

 

Ronan looks at him. “Hey,” he calls back. 

 

“I’m still in love with you,” Adam calls. He takes a deep, shuttering breath. “I never really stopped.” 

 

Then Ronan’s moving, stepping out into the rain, shirtless and barefoot. Adam moves forward so they can meet in the middle. Ronan doesn’t waste any time, grabbing Adam by the back of his neck and pulling him in, pressing their foreheads together. His heartbeat is so erratic, but he can feel Ronan’s heart pounding just as hard as his. Adam stares down at the drops of rainwater beading at the hollow of Ronan’s throat. The rain is falling in thick sheets, soaking them, but Ronan doesn’t seem to care. 

 

“I love you,” Ronan tells him, and it’s so _so_ much better in person. Adam laughs a little, because he’s crying, absolutely hysterical. “I’m so fucking crazy about you, Adam,” he says, and then they’re kissing, and Adam shivers when he realizes he finally knows what it’s like to kiss Ronan with a beard. It’s deep and wet and passionate, bodies pressed flush together. Ronan holds onto him so tight, like he doesn’t plan to ever let him go. Adam can feel him shivering, so he pulls away. 

 

“You’re going to get pneumonia, you idiot,” he says, laughing. Ronan smiles so wide at him, and it’s almost unbearable how in love he is. 

 

He takes Adam’s hand.“You’re the one who wanted to meet outside.” 

 

He pulls him along, and they run together through the rain to the building. When they make it inside, Ronan shakes his head like a dog to get the rain water off, and Adam’s filled with such deep affection for him he doesn’t know how to process it. Ronan pulls him to the elevator and presses the button. 

 

“You could have put on shoes, or a shirt,” Adam tells him, squeezing his hand. 

 

“No,” Ronan says, seriously, pulling Adam into him. “I really couldn’t.” He presses a wet, hard kiss to Adam’s mouth. “I couldn’t wait a second more.” He’s shaking visibly when they get into the elevator, so Adam takes off his coat and wraps it around Ronan’s bare shoulders, then he pulls at the lapels and pulls him in for another kiss. 

 

“Wow, you’re such a gentleman, lending me your jacket.” 

 

Adam smiles, and there are tears in his eyes, but when he looks into Ronan’s bright blue ones, he can see that he’s not doing any better. 

 

Once they’re inside his apartment, Ronan pushes Adam against the door, cages him in with his arms, the coat slipping off his shoulders and dropping to the floor behind him. “Are you sure,” he asks, voice so soft and quiet, and Adam knows why. “Because,” he says continuing, not breaking eye contact, “there’s a no return policy now.” 

 

Adam smiles and pulls him in closer. “I’m not making that same mistake twice,” he says, and then they’re kissing. “I mean it,” he says through their hurried kisses. “No returns.”

 

Dido greets them curiously before moving to lie back down on the couch. When they make it into Ronan’s bedroom, Adam tells him, “You should really hop in the shower, you’re going to freeze to death,” but Ronan shakes his head. 

 

“Later,” he says. “We can shower after.” Adam’s heart catches on the way he says ‘we’.

 

“I guess there are other ways I can warm you up,” he tells Ronan. He shucks off his shoes and pants, then pulls Ronan onto the bed and under the covers. They stare at each other for a few moments, laying on their sides and just taking each other in, in a way they’ve been deprived of for so many years. 

 

“I love you so much,” Adam whispers. “I’m so sorry, I wish—” he feels tears streaming down his face, and he has to close his eyes to stave them off. 

 

Ronan slides one cold hand up to wipe lightly at his cheeks with the rough pad of his thumb. “I know,” he whispers back. 

 

Adam lets out a soft sob, he tries to stop it, but he can’t. “It’s just—I wasted so much time. We could have had this for eight years, and—”

 

Ronan shakes his head, using the hand on Adam’s cheek to pull him in so he can press a soft, unbelievably sweet kiss to his forehead. “In hindsight, that’s probably not true. The way I loved you back then was so crazy and all-consuming, and I know you felt the same way, but we would have broken up eventually. It took me a long time to accept that, but—now we’re finally ready, and I know it’s going to be good and I know it’s going to last because Adam— _you’re it for me._ You’ve _always_ been it for me, but I love you more now than I even did back then. You broke my heart, but—” He shrugs. “Now you have the rest of our lives to make it up to me.” 

 

Adam pulls Ronan in so they’re kissing, soft and slow, and he tries to put every emotion he feels into it. When they pull back, Ronan slowly tugs off Adam’s shirt. The next kiss is deep, with Ronan’s tongue tasting his mouth, then leaning down to mouth at his jaw, then that spot behind his ear that always used to drive Adam crazy. 

 

“Do you have any idea,” Ronan says into his skin, “how much I missed this?”

 

He gasps and pulls Ronan on top of him, running his fingers up and down Ronan’s back as he moves down to press wet kisses to Adam’s neck. His hand slides down, cool fingers producing goosebumps everywhere they touch—down his chest, over one nipple, down his stomach, dipping below the waist band of Adam’s boxer briefs. 

 

“I—” Adam gasps, suddenly nervous. “It’s been awhile.”

 

Ronan studies his face and smiles softly. “I know. Me too. We can take it slow.”

 

“I don’t want to take it slow,” he says. “Just don’t expect me to have acquired any fancy new sex tricks since the last time we did this. Because, as you probably figured out during that stupid game, not much has really happened since then.”

 

Ronan laughs, and it makes Adam so happy, that he gets to make Ronan laugh again. He wants to spend all his time pulling as many laughs and smiles out of him as he can. “You were great the first time,” he tells Adam. “You were the best. Seriously, you have nothing to worry about.” He shakes his head in awe. “Have you seen yourself? I’m gonna come so fast no matter what we do.”

 

He slips his fingers all the way into Adam’s boxer briefs and wraps his hand around him and Adam’s breath catches. He’s so sensitive, and he thinks all those years of sexual repression have finally caught up to him. 

 

“What do you want to do?” Ronan whispers. 

 

Adam whines. “Fuck me. _Please_ , just fuck me.”

 

Ronan’s hand tightens on Adam’s cock and he moans. Ronan smiles. “We never—” he sighs. “You were always the one who fucked me.” 

 

Adam sighs. “I—” His voice breaks off and the next time he speaks, it’s soft and quiet. “I want you to, please. I need it.”

 

Ronan kisses his temple. “I don’t have condoms,” he says. “But I’m clean, so—” Adam nods. He doesn’t want to wait another moment. He doesn’t know why, but this feels like the last missing part of the puzzle, like once Ronan’s inside him, he’ll _finally_ be at peace. 

 

Ronan pushes Adam up so he’s closer to the headboard, forcing his thighs apart. He leaves briefly to get some lube, and then he’s back, head resting on Adam’s thigh, pressing a kiss there. 

 

“Ready?” he asks. 

 

“ _Please._ ”

 

Adam moans so loudly when Ronan beard scratches against the inside of his thigh, so nicely. He looks down to watch, and Ronan’s looking up at him in awe. “What did I do?” he asks, voice reverent. “I want you to make that sound again.”

 

Adam gasps out, “Your beard,” which makes Ronan laugh and nuzzle into him more, across his hip bone, down his thighs, softly between his legs, and while Adam’s distracted with that, Ronan takes the opportunity to press a lubed finger into him. Adam gasps at the burn, but it’s _good_ , it’s what he wants more than anything, so he forces himself to relax his body. 

 

Ronan grabs onto Adam’s cock with his other hand and pulls it toward his mouth, licking lightly at the head while he works Adam open with his finger. He sucks Adam down right when he slips a second finger in, and the combined attention leaves Adam overwrought with sensation. He tries to pant out words of encouragement, but he doesn’t really know what he’s saying. 

 

Ronan keeps him on the edge the entire time he stretches Adam out, as soon as Adam feels like he’s about to come, he pulls his mouth off to nuzzle at him again, or press soft, sweet kisses to Adam’s slit, which is just, so _Ronan_ , and Adam can’t really believe they’re here, that this is happening. 

 

“I know, me too,” Ronan says.

 

Eventually he pulls his fingers out and moves up up Adam’s body with sucking kisses and scratches from his beard, until he gets to Adam’s neck. The feeling of Ronan’s beard scratching against his neck sends a full body shiver through Adam, and he and Ronan both groan as their lengths slide together. 

 

“Ronan, I need you,” Adam whispers. Ronan nods, presses his forehead against Adam’s as he slicks himself up with a handful of lube and then presses against Adam’s entrance lightly. 

 

Ronan waits a moment. He locks eyes with Adam, gaze gleaming with tears, and then he slowly presses in. Adam feels his body tense up involuntarily. 

 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here, relax,” Ronan whispers. Adam takes a few slow breaths, then nods. Ronan presses himself in all the way, and it’s so overwhelming, how full and complete he feels right now. They stay like that for a long moment. 

 

“I missed this,” Adam whispers, “feeling so close to someone.” He feels tears fall down the sides of his cheeks and touch his ears. He slides his hands up and down Ronan’s back, feeling so safe, and then he lifts his legs, pressing his feet flat on the bed and grabs Ronan’s ass and pulls him in tighter. They moan in unison. 

 

“Please, Ronan. I need—” he’s cut off when Ronan sits up, pulling Adam’s hips with him and starts moving, thrusting in and out of Adam while he cants his hips up to meet each movement. Adam’s so content, full of bliss, and then Ronan snaps his hips hard and deep and hits a spot that makes him see stars, crying out. 

 

Ronan pauses, as if unsure what to do, so Adam pulls him in, wrapping his arms around him, then shifts so their positions are switched. Ronan’s cock has slipped out of him in the process, but Adam moves to straddle him, reaching down to grab it and shove it back in, and suddenly they’re really _fucking_ —Ronan’s hands gripping bruises into Adam’s hips as he slams him down on his cock and Adam presses down each time, letting him hit that spot deep inside him. They both become inarticulate, moaning and whining and saying absolutely filthy things about how badly they need each other, how good they feel, how they never want to stop. 

 

Adam comes first, when he leans forward and his cock slides against Ronan’s stomach, spilling his come all over their chests and feeling the most pleasure he thinks he’s ever felt, and then he watches Ronan, so close to the edge, so he reaches forward, slipping his fingers through his beard and then pressing two into his lips for Ronan to suck on, and then he slams down hard onto him, making him cry out and grip at Adam harder, and it’s strange, the feeling of his come filling up inside him. Ronan wraps his arms around him, pulling him in close, his lips finding Adam’s neck and kissing him there. 

 

“Holy fuck,” he says after a few minutes. 

 

“Yeah?” Adam smiles. 

 

Ronan shakes his head. “Yeah. That was—the best. You were so good.”

 

Adam’s heart fills up with happiness. Ronan tugs him so they’re standing, both of their legs a little wobbly, but they hold each other up. Ronan pulls him into the bathroom, and Adam chokes on his laughter when he gets a glimpse of the shower curtain, before Ronan pulls it back to turn on the water. He turns around with a confused grin on his face. 

 

Adam just laughs harder. “The Duomo? Really?” Ronan looks sheepish. “So you really _do_ care about Florence—that wasn’t just a ploy to get yourself through that awkward road trip?”

 

Ronan ducks his head. “It’s not my fault all the songs that were playing were weirdly similar to our relationship.” 

 

Adam cackles.

 

Ronan shakes his head, pressing his fingers under the shower head to feel the temperature. “Get in the shower, Adam.”

 

It’s nice, the way Ronan cleans him up with a soft washcloth, and then washes Adam’s hair, worshipping his body the whole time, like he too can’t believe this is real, that they actually get this. Their second chance. No returns. They kiss and hug and lean on each other under the water until it starts to get cold. Then Adam pulls Ronan out and they dry each other off with fluffy towels. 

 

When they climb into Ronan’s bed, Adam wraps his arms around him, spooning him under the covers and whispering his love to Ronan over and over until he falls asleep in his arms. Adam smiles when he hears his soft snores, presses his nose against Ronan’s nape and inhales, relishing in this feeling in his chest—like he’s finally _home_. 

 

***

 

“My turn!" Opal says, thrusting a very large newspaper-wrapped package at Declan. She moves to the armchair to sit back down in Lizzie’s lap, who reaches up to play with the long blonde strands of her hair, absently tying them into a loose braid. 

 

He peels off the paper and smiles, taking it in. It’s a painting of something, clearly Opal’s own work, but Adam can’t tell what the subject is. “Wow,” he says. Declan actually looks a little choked up. “Thank you.”

 

Then Ronan hands him a gift with a smirk on his face. Adam leans into his side. 

 

Declan eyes the box warily. “It’s not going to jump out at me is it?” 

 

Ronan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Just open your present, old man.”

 

Before Declan finds the courage to start pulling at the wrapping paper, Adam feels his phone buzz against his thigh. He pulls it out and glances at the screen. 

 

“I’ll be right back,” he tells Ronan with a kiss to his cheek. Then louder, “Don’t let him open the one with the snake in it until I get back.” He vaguely hears Declan yell something after him as he walks out of the room and into the kitchen. 

 

He answers the call. “Hey, what’s up?” 

 

He’s greeted with a deep sigh, “Nothing.”

 

Adam moves to lean back against the island. “I’m guessing you didn’t call to wish Uncle Declan happy birthday.” 

 

“I already did that. I—Dad, I need to talk to you about something.” 

 

Adam frowns at the serious tone of his voice. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Are your classes going alright?”

 

“My classes are fine. _God_ , I call and say I need to talk to you and the first thing you ask is how my _classes_ are?”

 

“Sorry. Tell me what’s going on, Ducky.”

 

Adam listens to him sigh and it’s a long moment before he speaks again, like he’s gearing up to say the words. “It’s about Tam.”

 

Adam’s mind starts to wander, flipping through the possibilities of _that_ statement, but he only prompts Ducky with, “Okay, I’m listening.”

 

“I’m just—the long distance is a lot harder than I thought it would be,” he says dejectedly. 

 

Adam feels himself tense up. 

 

“And I know I was the one who chose to do this, but —I’m starting to freak out,” he continues.

 

Adam sighs. “Do you mean you’re thinking of transferring? Because Ducky—”

 

“No. _No,_ I don’t want to transfer or anything. I like it out here, but—with Tam at UW it’s just _so far away._ ” Adam knows the feeling of deja vu is not just in his head anymore. “I barely ever have time to talk to him, or even text him, and I just keep thinking about how I’m only going home for Christmas and then spring break and then summer.”

 

“I think Tam plans to visit you a lot more than that.”

 

“I know, but that’s part of it—he’s always the one who calls me and texts me and plans to come visit me. I feel like it’s not really fair.” Adam knows Ducky’s trying to get something out but he’s not about to steer the conversation there himself. 

 

“Tam’s older than you, he’s used to college and managing his time. I don’t think he minds picking up the slack a little while you get used to everything.”

 

“I just—do you think it’s stupid? For us to be together?”

 

Adam closes his eyes and reaches a hand up to rub at his temple, because he knows that’s not the question Ducky wants to ask. “No. Have you talked to Tam about this?” 

 

There’s a pause. “No…”

 

“Okay,” Adam says.

 

“I just—do you think I’m making a mistake? I love him, but I don’t know…maybe trying to stay together is just me being naive.” 

 

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I think you should discuss this with Tam.” 

 

Ducky makes a frustrated noise. “ _Ugh_. I knew I should have asked dad instead.”

 

Adam laughs. “I think we both know what he’d say. Which is why you called me.”

 

“I know. I don’t get why he hates Tam so much,” he says with a sigh.

 

Adam rolls his eyes at the irony of the situation, but he still feels worry tugging at him. “He doesn’t hate Tam, he just can’t conceptualize someone being good enough for you. Plus, there’s Joseph always giving him shit about it.”

 

“But Tam _is_ good enough for me. He’s amazing. I don’t _want_ to break his heart. I just don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

 

Adam shakes his head. He can’t really believe this is happening. “Well Ducky, you’re a problem solver. Figure it out.” 

 

“You really can’t just tell me what to do?”

 

“No. I love you and I will always be here to be a sounding board whenever you need me, but I’m not going to make decisions for you. That’s part of being an adult.”

 

“Ugh. I guess I should call Tam and talk to him.” 

 

Adam bites his lip. “I guess so.”

 

“Bye, dad.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too even though you didn’t help me _at all,_ ” Ducky groans ungratefully before hanging up the phone. 

 

Adam feels a little dazed. Blue finds him in the kitchen before he can head back in to the party. 

 

“Sarah’s bringing out the cake. Who was on the phone? You look weird.”

 

“Thanks,” he says sarcastically. “Ducky’s worried about the long distance.” 

 

He watches Blue’s eyes widen and then soften. “Why did we ever let our kids start dating each other?” she asks with a sigh. 

 

Adam shakes his head. “You’re the one who was all excited about it in the first place.”

 

She glares at him. “That was before I realized Ducky might break Tam’s heart. That boy is so in love, I don’t think he’d ever recover.” Then her eyes widen and her face becomes incredulous. “Oh my god, is history doomed to repeat itself?”

 

Adam scoffs. “No, Blue, this isn’t _Star Wars._ ” 

 

She swats him as they walk back into the living room together.


End file.
